Friend of the Family
by SweetUmami
Summary: When Bella moves to town to attend university, Edward is enlisted by their families to help her settle in. She avoids him until he makes a surprising offer.
1. Chapter 1

_September 7_

The three of us—Edward, my mother, and I—stood on his front porch, saying our goodbyes while Dad brought the car around. "It was really lovely to see you again, Edward," said Mom. "Thank you for everything. Really, we feel so much better knowing Bella has a friend here in town." I heaved a silent sigh. It's mortifying when your family thinks you need a nanny at nineteen...twenty in a few weeks. True, I'd just been through a rough year. But still. Delaying my start at college gave me the chance to get myself together. I was okay now.

I mean, I appreciated the effort my parents were making. I knew it wasn't easy for the two of them with their separate, busy lives to come all this way and see me off as I started school. But this wasn't us. The excess attention was weird and embarrassing. I tried to make myself feel better by remembering that, until recently, my folks didn't meddle. So, I would remain optimistic. When they reverted to form, which I expected any day now, I was pretty sure they wouldn't be exchanging daily text messages with Edward.

I had no idea why he had agreed to "keep an eye out for me" anyway. He definitely had better things to do, more interesting people to spend time with. It must have been from a sense of duty to my folks, although I was surprised the bond between our families was extending this far down the line. Our grandmothers had been lifelong best friends. My parents merely exchanged holiday letters with his. Edward and I weren't anything worth mentioning, as he'd inadvertently made clear years ago. I couldn't see that changing, despite how he'd been enlisted by my mom and dad.

Here's how I imagined things would unfold—Edward would smile and nod and let my parents feel like they weren't just dumping me off in Ann Arbor. He was going to shake our hands, wish my mom and dad safe travels, and then forget about me the moment the door closed. At best, he would remember who I was should I ever find myself in real trouble, with the need to throw myself on the mercy of an actual grown-up. But we weren't going to be friends.

Well. Time to wrap up this awkward situation. I drew myself up and held out my hand, trying to look as adult-like as possible. "Thanks for a great dinner, Edward. I really enjoyed it. It was nice seeing you again after so long." Oops. I tried to hold in the sigh of exasperation that desperately wanted to escape. I hadn't wanted to remind him of our last visit, when he was a charismatic college student on summer break and I was fifteen and awkward. When I learned what mortifying embarrassment felt like.

"It was my pleasure," Edward returned. His hand was warm and soft, and familiar. It seemed to grip mine a little longer than usual which made me look up. "Good luck with your classes. I hope you'll let me know how you're settling in." He gazed directly into my eyes as he said this. Impressive role-playing for Charlie and Renee, I had to admit. But I wasn't fooled. No contact info had been exchanged. A pang of regret bloomed in my chest before I could stop it. I think it was from his eyes—his beautiful, gold-flecked, emerald eyes—looking into mine with sincere feeling. The moment felt real until I remembered it wasn't. Edward wasn't interested in me, and wouldn't ever be.

"We need to get a move on if we want to drop Bella at her dorm and make your flight, Renee." Charlie placed a hand on my shoulder as he spoke to her. He was in Chief of Police mode now, issuing orders and taking care of business. "Edward, I'll be in touch."

"All right, Sir. Good night." Edward shook Charlie's hand and stepped aside to let us by. I turned to follow Renee down the steps but Edward reached out to touch my arm, stopping me. "I mean it, Isabella," he said quietly. "I'd like to hear from you." He held out a business card. Surprised, I looked up into his eyes for the second time and experienced that same honest gaze. Maybe it was my confusion or maybe I was arrested by the defenselessness I saw in his eyes. He was that college student again, asking me to play with him. Whatever it was, a moment passed in stillness until I heard Charlie's voice calling me. "Bella! Let's go, Honey." I took the card from Edward and managed to mumble out a few polite words. "Um, thanks Edward. Really. Good night." Then I was in the car and hiding behind my hair as Charlie pulled away from the curb.

My mind sifted through the last few disorienting minutes. It certainly seemed like he meant what he said. But why would Edward be interested in hearing my news? I was confident it would be bland, average stuff. Edward was anything but average. My glance landed on the card held in my slightly damp grasp. I let myself read the information I already knew. Edward Cullen, Co-Founder & Chief Software Engineer, oodles-dot-com.

I gave myself a shake and rejoined reality. It was only wishful thinking taking over for a moment. Edward wasn't interested in me personally. There was nothing between us. He was simply doing a kindness for my family, I told myself firmly. He happened to play his part extremely well. That was all.


	2. Chapter 2

_September 30  
_

"Really, I don't need a shot. I'm fine with beer." I gestured to the plastic cup I'd been pretending to drink for the last ninety minutes. "Thanks for asking, though," I said as I subtly removed Mike's hand from my waist. He curled it into a fist and started pounding the table in unison with his friends.

"WE'RE HAPPY, WE'RE JOLLY, WE'RE SHITFACED, BY GOLLY," they chanted. The three beefy frat guys slammed their sixth round of booze together. Ugh. I sighed and looked around the faux-wood-paneled room. What a dump. ScoreKeepers Lounge was all stale beer smell and stickiness underfoot. Fake-ID users couldn't be choosy about their drinking establishments, I supposed.

My eyes were starting to smart from peering across the dim bar while I waited for my roommate to arrive. Angela was my most reliable friend, which was why I'd asked her to meet up with us. Good thing. Mike had been nice in the class we shared, and I thought it might be comfortable to hang out with someone else who knew my hometown of Charlevoix. But now that I was seeing him in his natural environment, I was revolted. Take the hand-on-my-waist thing. Guiding me out of a crowded lecture, it seemed friendly. Now it felt like he was some creep I needed to be wary of.

"I'm going to get another drink," I yelled to Mike over the bar noise. He raised his glass and nodded, then resumed listening to Fraternity Brother Number One's story about somebody vomiting in their frat house piano. Mike: "Dude! No way." FB1: "Way!"

As I navigated through the clumps of students talking animatedly and clogging the room, I spotted Angela coming in the door and headed over to intercept her.

"Sorry I'm late, Bella! I missed the bus, and it's a long walk from the psych lab." She hitched the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder as she gave me a lopsided grin. "How's your evening shaping up?"

"I'm glad you're here. Turns out the reality of college socializing isn't so glamorous. I've had enough for one evening."

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't mind staying."

"I'm sure!" I laughed. "It's nice of you to offer but—seriously? You'd rather be curled up with Ben and a good book."

Her grin widened at the mention of her boyfriend. "Well, definitely Ben. I don't know about the book."

"Let me just say goodbye to Newton and his frat brothers." I began walking back toward the tables, my head turned toward her instead of watching where I walked. "Maybe we can get a slice of pizza from the Backdoor on our way. I could use some—." A broad, oxford-wearing chest appeared suddenly in my peripheral vision, and I stopped just in time.

"Isabella Swan? Hello." A flash of warmth ran down my spine at the sound of that rich, resonant voice. My body recalled it slightly before my brain did. "Funny that our paths crossed here. You aren't twenty-one for another-"

"Edward! Hello! Uh, this is my friend Angela. We were just leaving, actually." Awkward pause. It would be just my luck if he _was_ texting with Charlie. Underage drinking was right up there with riding motorcycles on the list of activities guaranteed to give my father a heart attack and make him issue serious penalties. I'd missed all the school dances my junior year from St. Patrick's Day through Prom after Charlie caught me riding motorcycles with my friend Jacob. "Are you, uh, here with friends this evening?"

Edward turned to Angela and shook her hand. "Hi, Angela. I'm Edward." I mentally kicked myself for forgetting to introduce him. "Just stopping in for a drink after work," he continued. "My office is near here." He looked a little uncomfortable. "ScoreKeepers isn't the swankiest place, I know, but I like to come by sometimes for the nostalgia. College was a simpler time."

"Oh." I found this tiny hint of information fascinating, like everything I learned about Edward. But I couldn't think of any acceptably intelligent-sounding rejoinder. My cheeks began to heat up as my mind worked frantically, searching for something—anything—to say. Just as I was about to give up and move to the good-bye portion of the conversation, he cleared his throat.

"How are your classes going?" It was a conventional small-talk inquiry. I clung to it.

"They're good. It's a heavy load, but I think I'm going to enjoy my program."

"That's great. Aren't you double majoring? The Business and Fine Arts program, right?" I nodded. I hadn't expected him to remember.

Just then, a large hand pressed between my shoulder blades and Newton leaned down to crowd-shout in my ear. "Did you get lost on the way back from the bar, Bella?" He stood too close, and I could feel heat radiating from him. "The guys and I are getting ready to do a seventh shot! Come back." His big grin disappeared momentarily while he shot an unfriendly look at Edward, but it returned as he grabbed my hand and started pulling me away.

"Wait, Mike! Angela and I were just about to head out."

"No, stay. Or come to the house. We have drinks and tunes there." His face was too animated, the muscles loosened by liquor.

"I don't know, Mike. It sounds like fun but I'm kind of feeling…not well. Maybe another night?" _Or maybe the fourteenth of never_, I thought as my shoulders started hunching up in discomfort.

"Come on, Bella. It's party night! I'm-a do it right!" He did a little dance as he chanted out the words. Or was he singing? "Ohhhh-what-a-feeling! When-we're-dancing-on- the-ceiling!" He grabbed both my hands in his meaty, damp ones and started a backward shuffle, bobbing his head and towing me along with him.

"Really, Mike, I think I need to pass." Newton, undeterred, spun around and dropped his right arm over my shoulders, dragging me along as he walked. "You can't quit now. This party's just getting started! Yeah!"

I threw an alarmed glance over my shoulder toward Angela. "Help me!" I mouthed. She looked equally alarmed. Her expression had everything to do with the fact that she was no match for a six-foot, 180-pound, binge-drinking male co-ed. I was starting to feel panicky. I didn't know how to extricate myself without causing a scene and bruising Mike's feelings. But all my instincts were telling me to get away from him.

That was the moment those magnetic green eyes reappeared directly in my path. Plus a hand, extended in Mike's direction.

"Edward Cullen. Nice to meet you. It's Mike, right?" Mike's expression switched to annoyance. He removed his arm from my shoulders to shake Edward's hand. I used the opportunity to step back and intertwine my fingers with Angela's.

"Yeah. Mike Newton."

Edward smiled. "Newton? Like Newton Outfitters?

Mike's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. You've heard of it?"

"Who _hasn't_ heard of it?" Edward made it sound like Mike's uncle's store had the profile of a national chain. "Anybody who's ever been to Charlevoix knows about Newton Outfitters." Edward remembered the name of a small-town sporting goods store he'd last visited four years ago? Huh. Meanwhile, Mike seemed to be totally unfamiliar with the well-publicized name Edward Cullen. Oh, the irony.

Mike relaxed a little bit. "So, you know Bella from Charlevoix then?"

Edward gave me a searching glance. I tried using telepathy to let him know I wanted out of this situation. "Sort of. We go way back. Our families have been close for years and she and I have started getting reacquainted now that we're in the same location again."

My heart was racing. I wanted to stay and talk to Edward. I needed to get away from Mike. Angela caught my eye and nodded toward the exits, so I took my chance. "Thanks for tonight, Mike. See you in class." I started retreating quickly but felt Edward's eyes on me and turned. "Edward. I'm so glad we ran into each other." I tried to pour as much gratitude as I could into the words. He had no idea how thankful I was for the diversion he provided.

Unexpectedly, he stepped closer. Had he always looked this beautiful? I couldn't remember. Heart still thumping in my chest, I was now frozen to the spot as he put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered. "Take care of yourself, Isabella. I'll keep Mike talking for a few minutes to assist your escape." I met his eyes. He smirked and I smiled my thanks, and then my feet wouldn't respond even though they had ached to carry me away from Mike just seconds ago. The moment stretched on, without awkwardness. Why did I feel so…happy?

Finally, with a wave to Edward, Angela tugged me loose and headed us toward the door where we almost collided with a stunning blonde. She was scanning the room, searching for her companions, no doubt, and didn't notice us.

"Sorry," she said, glancing at me fleetingly. Then she stood on tiptoe and raised her arm. "Edward!"

The elation of a moment ago was replaced by a queasy feeling settling over my stomach. Of course. It made sense. He would certainly have a girlfriend, and she was as beautiful as he was. With his company's success and that movie-star face, he was a guy who could be with anyone he wanted.

I wanted to kick myself for forgetting: Edward was almost always polite and often kind, but it didn't mean that he really liked a person. He was helpful tonight. I appreciated it. There was no point in thinking beyond that fact, so I willed myself to stop. Then I put on the biggest smile I could manage as Angela and I turned toward the exit. "How about that pizza?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to Project Team Beta. They help me with my comma problems.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight isn't mine. I _am_ claiming the non-Twilight bits, though.**

* * *

_October 7_

The instant Jacob and I set foot inside Dawn Treader Used Books, the smell of dust, mildew, and disintegrating bindings washed over us. No clerk appeared, despite the bell that chimed to announce our entry. My shoulders eased down a notch.

"Um…wow," Jacob said as he looked around at the chest-high towers of novels, outdated encyclopedias, and countless other volumes, piled here and there in a loose approximation of aisles. "I'm going to need some help finding the right section in this place."

"Yeah, I don't see anyone around. Maybe we should just leave."

"Aw, come on and live a little, Bella. The clerk is going to be more embarrassed than us."

"Really, Jacob? Because my embarrassment level is already at eleven." I wondered again why I'd agreed to come along on Jacob's search. He was looking for Victorian literature about the supposed sexual habits of werewolves and vampires. It wasn't the subject matter that bothered me. Rather, I suspected that Jacob had begun to pursue more than my friendship. The idea that he would pick this ruse as his seduction method was what made me want to bolt.

A rumpled man wearing a tweed jacket and carrying a stack of books approached us. "Can I help you find something?"

"Please. I'm told you have a selection of" — Jake's voice dropped to a theatrical whisper — "Victorian erotica."

The clerk just barely suppressed an eye roll. "That's correct. Are you doing research for Professor Rice's class?"

"Sure, you could say we're doing research." Jacob winked at him.

I tried to look like a responsible student and as apologetic as possible for my big dope of a best friend. "I bet weekends are really busy around here. Do you need us to come back later?"

The clerk's attitude softened a bit. "They are busy, and I'm on my own right now. We're not supposed to leave this section unlocked — rare books, you know — so I can let you look for five minutes, but then I have to take a delivery in the back of the store." He led us to a gated aisle and opened it. The motion of the gate stirred up a shower of dust. I worked to suppress a sneeze. "Here they are. I'll be in the next aisle if you have questions."

Jacob turned to me with a grin and held out his fist for a bump. "Nice work. Way to charm the clerk, Bella."

Fist bump? Okay, maybe I was wrong about his motives. If Jake wanted to date, surely he would find a more romantic way of touching me. I followed him through the gate as he pulled a faded volume off the shelf and flipped it open. "Hey, look at this one." He held it up to show me an illustration of a werewolf standing behind a woman in a full-length Victorian dress, lifting her skirt.

"See anything you like?" He cocked his head and looked at me speculatively. "You know, if you want to try it out sometime, I would be happy to play the werewolf. Woo-woo-woooooooo!" he howled. I took a breath and crossed my arms over my chest, trying to stop the "ew-ew-ewwww" in my mind from exiting my mouth. I didn't have as much success with the blush spreading its way across my cheeks and down to my neck. Maybe I shouldn't have censored myself because Jacob misinterpreted the redness. "Looks like you're a little turned on right now, Bella."

I wanted to be indignant, but the narrow, musty aisles combined with Jake's cheekiness brought on a wave of claustrophobia instead. I tried a deep breath but it didn't help. "Ugh, I think I need fresh air. I'm not feeling well." I exited through the gate and stopped cold. Standing there, not three feet away, with a disgruntled look marring his chiseled features, was Edward Cullen. "Oh. Hello, Edward." My blush deepened.

"Isabella. Enjoying your date?" He looked so angry.

"My…? No, Jacob's not…" I trailed off as my stomach grew nauseated. Did he hear that whole exchange with Jacob? After seeing me with Mike, and now this, he probably thought I was some sort of a creep-magnet. Then I remembered why Edward was in my life at all, obliging a request from my folks to "look out" for me after the disaster of two springs ago. My embarrassment transformed into shame. Crap. I _was_ a creep-magnet. One who was starting to feel like she should sit down and put her head between her knees.

Jacob chose that moment to catch up to me and put an arm around my shoulder. He tucked me tightly into his side. "I thought you were going outside for some air." He leaned down so he could speak quietly in my ear. "You don't have to run away, Bella. I was only kidding back there." I softened in my irritation with Jake, but I needed his hands off me. The contact was adding to my nausea.

I looked down at the floor and tried to gather myself, avoid making a scene. "Jacob, this is Edward. He's an old family friend. Edward, this is Jacob."

Edward held out his hand. "Hi, Jacob. How do you and Bella know each other?" I noted the dad-style questioning with trepidation. He _must_ be in cahoots with Charlie.

Jacob shrugged. "I have relatives in Northern Michigan and we like to hang out at the beach. Bella tumbled down a sand dune one day and crashed into me." He grinned at me like my clumsiness was adorable. "Friends ever since."

Edward surveyed him doubtfully. "Friends."

"Yeah, you know. Friends: people who enjoy each other's company and look out for one another." Jacob's voice was sarcastic now.

"Well, it's good that Isabella has your help. A lot of guys come to college more interested in the opposite sex than in studying. When they aren't honest…people get hurt." Edward looked directly at me as he uttered the last sentence in a meaningful voice.

He glanced off to the side for a second and raised his hand in a "just a minute" gesture toward someone in the next aisle. Jacob took advantage of the distraction. "Whatever you say, Edward." Jacob made the name sound like it belonged to a total loser. "I'm going to get Bella outside. She's not feeling well."

"Bye, Edward," I said as Jacob pulled me away with him. "Uh…see you around?" I was a little stumped by Edward's mini-lecture. Was this his idea of looking out for me?

Edward smiled, but only slightly. "I hope so, Isabella. You seem to need a lot of rescuing." My eyes widened in surprise and I recoiled an inch, involuntarily, as if I'd been slapped. Why would Edward think that? Had Charlie shared the _details_ about my recent rough patch? The queasiness forgotten, I fumed silently. What business of Edward's was it anyway?! He'd gone four years without showing one speck of interest in my well-being. Now, he acted like it was his personal mission to protect me from…from… predators, I guess. He couldn't just barge in and out of my life, deciding things all by himself. Anyway, he was wrong if he thought he needed to protect me. It was my job. Maybe I'd failed spectacularly at it once, but I was older and wiser now. I would learn to do it myself.

Speechless in my fit of fury, I just shook my head and let Jacob lead me out of the store. But I couldn't resist one look back. The same blonde I'd seen at the bar emerged from the mountain of dusty volumes. I'd seen them together twice now. She had to be his girlfriend. And, despite the indignant comebacks I was still formulating in my head, I couldn't escape the feeling of melancholy descending over me.

I tossed and turned that night trying to find sleep, but my mind refused to clock out. I hated to admit it: Edward was right. I attracted the wrong kind of guys. It had been true in Charlevoix and it was turning out to be true here in Ann Arbor as well. I hadn't met a boy who had half the charm, half the courtesy, half the concern that seemed to emanate from Edward effortlessly. Well, except for Edward, who already had a gorgeous girlfriend and wouldn't have been interested in me even if he hadn't.

Maybe I just needed to take a break. Wait things out. Better luck next year, or even the year after that. I knew one thing: I couldn't survive another fiasco like the one with James. My chest constricted and I pressed the comforter into my mouth to ward off hyperventilation. _Over_, I told myself. _That was over_.

Dating could wait until I found professional success. Putting all my time and effort into developing a jewelry business would make it easier to get established, anyway. Resolved, I flipped my pillow over and closed my eyes. No more boys for me, not this year. My life would be a boy-free zone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Many thanks to shouvley and Project Team Beta for the improvements they suggested. **

**Let's see what's in that pretty little head of Edward's...**

* * *

_September 7 from Edward's point of view_

_She's here._

I kept coming back to that single thought. It was my mantra that evening.

_She is here._

I hadn't been sure that I'd see her again. Having her in my house, at my table…it made me feel something I couldn't explain. I just knew I wanted more of it.

_Here._

If I had looked for a photo or allowed myself to check up on her just once or twice, I might have been better prepared. Instead, I was leveled by her. She was stunning. Beautiful. Well-spoken. Her brown eyes were still as warm and observant as they had been that long-ago summer. Even at fifteen, I'd thought her pretty rather than gawky. But now…

It took all my strength—all of it—to keep from staring at her, touching her. I wanted to touch her. I needed the proof that she was real, that she was there with me. Maybe I had earned another chance by doing the right thing last time.

I decided to start with becoming her friend again.

* * *

_September 30, EPOV_

I couldn't believe I was following her. It was something a creep would do. I'd spent years of effort avoiding behavior that would put me in that category. But there I was, watching her walk down the street, trailing along six storefronts behind. I mean, did it count when I was already headed in the same direction?

I decided I should call out to her. Say hello. She would be glad to see me, right?

Probably she had been too busy to get in touch. Moving to a new town, starting classes, making new friends: all of these things took time. I got it. Besides, Bella put a lot of herself into friendships. I could give her another week or two to settle in.

But…why waste the opportunity? She was here. I was here. Besides, an accidental meeting was more casual than a phone call. I wanted to be casual at the beginning.

Then she stopped in front of…ScoreKeepers Lounge? Of all the run-down bars that catered to underage drinking, that place was the hands-down worst. What was she thinking?

A couple of guys greeted her. They were obviously frat boys, complete with Abercrombie clothes and shiny hair. I didn't like the idea of her hanging with them. The ferret-faced blond one got in her space immediately. That kind of guy…was not right for her. Anyway, I knew too much about how badly people behaved when they were drunk.

They disappeared into the bar.

_Shit_. _How was I going to "casually" bump into her, now?_

I pulled out my phone and scanned the contacts shortlist. Maybe I could get someone to meet me. Not Emmett. He might remember Bella's name. Not Alice. She would see my feelings right away. Jasper was only a half-step removed, and he told Alice everything anyway. Rose, then.

I hit her number on speed dial. "Rose? Can you meet me for a drink?"

* * *

_October 7, EPOV_

I unearthed a copy of Donald Trump's _The Art of the Deal_ and blew a layer of dust off the cover.

"Rose," I called, holding it up so she could see. "Interested in this one?"

She shook her head. "That tool? No thanks. Get him alone in a conference room and all he can talk about is how my _looks_ are a real asset."

I nodded my head at the idiosyncrasies of my friend and business partner and went back to looking for first editions of leadership autobiographies. If I'd known this would be Rose's _quid pro quo_ for meeting me at ScoreKeepers last week, I'd have gone in alone.

I decided to try the next aisle.

Voices registered as I walked. I felt strangely compelled to listen to one in particular. It sounded like…Bella. Words began to take shape as I moved closer, and then all at once the situation became clear. It _was_ her. She was here. On a date.

She was on a date with someone who was not me.

I had to frown and clench my teeth to keep from growling with frustration. At myself. At the situation. _Of_ _course_ I wasn't the only guy interested in Bella. She was a beautiful, amazing woman. It wasn't like four summers ago, when we'd spent our time mostly with each other. I huffed out a long, irritated breath.

Then she stumbled out of the aisle right in front of me. She was pale, but beautiful. I wanted to wrap my arms around her the moment she came into view. I could tell she was upset.

I had something to say to whomever she was with, for making her feel that way.

* * *

_October 7 from Rosalie's point of view_

"Who was that, Edward?" He looked wrecked, so I made it my business to find out why.

"No one. Are you ready?"

Was he serious? I had ears and eyes. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

He frowned slightly and shook his head. "I'm not." He wouldn't meet my gaze.

I heaved a breath. He was really trying my patience this week. Not like before, when he was as bad as one of those self-absorbed reality show contestants on _Real Celebrity Businessmen of I-Have-My-Head-Up-My-Assville_. But still.

"Bullshit. You were talking to someone. Two someones, actually. Now you look like someone just stole your ten-speed. You've been acting strange all week. And phoning it in at work, I might add."

"I don't want to talk about it, Rose."

The girl he spoke with—she looked familiar. Where had I seen her before?

"That's too bad, Edward, because I do. I'm your friend, remember? I care about you." There was a time when I would have backed off, but I'd had the experience of watching Edward turn into "The Face of Oodles"—and a person I really didn't like. Thank God he had seen the error of his ways. He was back to being his old self now; I was going to make sure it stayed that way. "You know what? I'm changing my end of the deal. In return for meeting you at that disgusting dive, I want to know what's going on with you." Mentioning ScoreKeepers jarred a memory loose. That's where I'd seen the girl before.

"Fine. I ran into someone I used to know."

"Well, I can certainly see how that might be upsetting for you. We should go get a drink, help you relax."

He rolled his eyes, but I keep going.

"Maybe we should go to ScoreKeepers since she seems to hang out there. What's her name again?"

He sighed in defeat. "All right, Rose. Her name is Bella." He ran a hand through his hair. "I knew her a long time ago. She's really great. Things ended badly, though. I was hoping, now that she lives here…" He trailed off.

Wow, I felt dumb. "Oh. Sorry, Edward. I thought maybe she was a fangirl or something. Trying to get a date with _Edward Cullen_."

"Nope, she wasn't. Do me a favor, Rose?"

Yes. I wanted to make up for my _faux pas_. "Sure. What?"

"Don't mention this to anyone. Not even Emmett. It was a rough time for me. I'd like to keep it private."

"Yeah, okay. Done."

And just like that, my curiosity was sparked. I intended to keep an eye on this.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

_October 11_

"Oh! That feels so good," I said. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop." I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair.

A giggle came from somewhere near my feet. "It's good you're enjoying yourself, but could you keep it down? I don't want people to get the wrong idea about my establishment." I tensed up in embarrassment, and Alice felt it right away. "Whoa, relax! I insist. I was only teasing."

_Alice Whitlock's R&R (Relax/Refashion)_ was an art gallery-slash-clothing and accessories store, where you could also get a spa treatment. Or, it was a spa where you could also buy a new wardrobe and art for your home. The business model seemed a bit unfocused to me, but R&R was all the rage in Ann Arbor. One of my classes used it as a case study, even bringing in the owner to speak to us.

R&R specialized in personal service. Apparently, Alice Whitlock likes to be hands-on, and even does some of the beauty treatments herself. When I'd decided I needed a pedicure to relax and phoned for an appointment, Mrs. Whitlock had actually remembered me from the lecture. She had insisted on doing the pedicure herself, and told me to call her Alice.

Now, trying to help me relax, she grinned apologetically. "Something has you wound tight, huh?"

"Uh…" I tried to think of a comfortable answer, suitable for spa chat. "Just the usual: double-major, eighteen-credit course load, plus I'm trying to launch a small jewelry business."

"Ooh, that sounds ambitious," she said enthusiastically. "A girl after my own heart."

She looked up and her fingers paused their motion as a blond girl approached. "Excuse me, Mrs. Whitlock? Sorry to interrupt. Ursula Throckmorton just dropped in to ask if she could try out the other painting for her gala next week."

Alice pursed her lips and a brief look of disapproval crossed her face as she muttered. "Apparently, 'final decision' doesn't mean what I think it means." Then her expression cleared, and she nodded. "Tell her we'll send it along with the dress. We have two other people interested, so she can only keep it for a week. And make sure she's using _five_ drops of the serum, not three. Thanks, Jane."

Her strong fingers resumed their work. I was struck again by the contrast between her look – delicate and gamine – and the skilled capability she wielded so easily. "So, you were saying, you've got ambitions. Doesn't leave much time for socializing and dating, though. Isn't that what most of the kids do in college?"

"Maybe, but I'm not so good at that stuff." I pointed a finger at myself. "Introverted. Also, I seem to have a talent for attracting caveman types."

Alice tilted her head and grinned with interest. "Do tell."

I hesitated for a minute. How much could I say to a virtual stranger? Keep it light, I decided. "I've just been duped repeatedly by guys pretending to be someone they aren't."

"Oh, right," she said knowingly. "Like, he's a buddy until he comes up with what he thinks is a good move. And then it's something lame like getting you drunk or watching porn together."

I laughed, surprised that she had described my last two Neanderthal encounters perfectly. "Exactly. The irony is that they would probably get way more action if they behaved like gentlemen."

"Totally. Before I launched my own business, I worked as a personal shopper. You know, putting together outfits for high-powered types who couldn't be bothered to do it themselves. One of my clients was this really short guy, shorter than he looks in photographs. Almost as short as me, and that's saying something. He was really sweet, though. I enjoyed talking to him, and it seemed mutual. Finally, one day, instead of taking the clothes to his VIP dressing room to change on his own, he insisted he needed help. I thought he was ready to make a move, ask me out maybe, and wanted to talk in private. So we got in there, he closed and locked the door. But instead of asking me for a date, he started talking about all the mirrors. 'I wonder what it would be like to see myself pleasuring you from every angle,' he says." Alice paused to look up at me and roll her eyes.

"What did you do?" I asked, incredulous at the boldness of her client. I couldn't see myself handling something like that smoothly.

"I told him the only person he'd be pleasuring that day was himself. And that he'd better step up his game if he wanted to interest me."

I laughed. "Did he?"

"Don't know. He took up with someone else right after our conversation."

There was a pause, each of us pondering the inexplicable nature of men. Then our eyes met. "Please tell me it gets better, Alice. I can't avoid dating forever."

"Avoid dating? How do you mean? Like, no going out? No sex? No profiling yourself on Match-dot-com?

"None of it. Not until I can reasonably hope to meet a guy who isn't just burning off his"—I searched for an appropriate description—"uh, hormone-fueled lust haze."

Alice looked thoughtful. "Um, Bella, I know we've only just met and all, but isn't that a little extreme?"

"Er…no? I don't think so. What do you mean?"

"Well, not every guy is like that. I mean, I met my husband right after the incident with that short moron. But also, girls have needs, too. If you wait for men to start making sense, you could be waiting a long time. Anyway, I've known more than one woman who was glad she'd picked up a little experience while searching for Mr. Right."

A silence settled over us while I digested her statement. Alice had just suggested dating could be for sex instead of for love. It was the first time I'd ever really thought about it.

After a moment, in a very small voice, Alice said, "I've overstepped, haven't I? It felt like I was talking to one of my girlfriends and I got carried away. I—"

I held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay. I'm just thinking about what you said."

"Oh." She took a breath. "And?"

"I think I lack your confidence. I'm too…awkward to make that work. A nunnery still looks like a promising strategy to me. Thanks, though."

"All right," she said cheerfully. "But I think you're underestimating yourself. You seem like someone who's not content to sit on the sidelines anymore. I think you want to get out there and live a little. _When_ you're ready, call me so we can turn your look up a notch."

"Of course. You'll be the first to know," I said dryly, and then relaxed back into my chair as Alice worked over my toes.

* * *

Later, as I paid my bill, Alice surprised me with a hug. "Sorry," she said when I stiffened. "Too much?" Her face wore a wry smile.

I shook my head. She actually didn't make me uncomfortable, even though most of my friends weren't that exuberant. "No, it's fine. You surprised me." I returned her smile.

"I _am_ glad you stopped in today, Bella," said Alice. "I wasn't just being sunny when I said I feel like we're friends already. I have a good feeling about you. Stop by soon for another visit. Oh! Or you could come out with us on Friday night. Jasper and I—he's my husband—are going to see a band at the Cavern Club with some friends. Join us? Please?"

I smiled again at her transparent excitement. "I had fun, too, Alice. And I'd really like to hang out, but— a club? I'm not sure..." I trailed off, my tone noncommittal. "Maybe you and I could meet up for coffee afterward?"

She gave me a quizzical look. "Bella, you'll be fine. We'll take care of you."

I swallowed. Was I really that transparent? Or was Alice extra-good at reading people? Either way, she had managed to say the perfect thing. "Okay. I'll think about it."

* * *

_October 14…Friday night _

Peering through the dim light of the bar, I typed a message and hit send.

**To Whitlock, Alice: Where are you?**

Thanks to a mountain of assignments this week, I hadn't finished up in the student art lab until late. Late enough to miss the band and the dancing at the Cavern Club, in fact. I felt lighter on my feet, secretly relieved by this development, so I'd decided to meet up with Alice and her friends for a drink.

"You won't regret it, Bella, I promise," she'd said over the phone.

But now I was wandering around the 8-Ball Saloon, looking in vain for Alice and feeling more on edge by the second. Also, the bouncer, whom I kept walking past, was getting impatient with my presence. "Look, kid. I got a lot of people waiting to get in. Buy a drink soon, or leave."

My phone chimed with an incoming text.

**From Whitlock, Alice: We're in the basement, by the pool tables.**

I took a deep breath and walked back toward the billiards area again. How could I be missing her?

In my distraction, I didn't notice the hand snaking out from the booth to my right until it grabbed my arm and jerked me down to sitting. The owner of the hand, an older guy with a stringy, blond ponytail, bad skin, and bad teeth, wrapped it around my shoulders. "You must be lost darlin'. Lucky thing I found you. What're you drinking tonight?"

I stared at him in shock. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I turned slightly to see a redhead hunched in the booth across from Ugly Blond Guy. Her face was vacant, her eyes weary. She looked at him, then at me, then at him, but she didn't say a word.

At last, my brain snapped into gear, and I scrambled from the booth. Ugly tried to grab my arm again, but I had surprised him. Instead, he lost his balance and crashed into me, pushing me into a passing waitress. We all got doused in beer.

Before I could open my mouth to yell for help, my tormentor grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the bouncer. "This bitch just shoved me into a waitress. Make her leave."

The bouncer looked over our heads toward the booths where the waitress was busily cleaning up broken glasses. He heaved a big sigh and reached toward me. "I warned you, kid. Let's go."

"Wait!" I cried.

And then, in a routine that was growing familiar, who should appear to aid me in my distress but Edward Cullen. "Don't touch her," he said in a low tone.

The bouncer turned his very large, bald head to peer at Edward dangerously. "Listen. I don't need trouble tonight. She's trouble, so she's gone."

"She isn't trouble," Edward replied. "This creep assaulted her. She was trying to get away. I suggest you eject him instead."

The bouncer looked from Edward to me to Ugly Blond Guy for a moment and came to a decision. "You know what? I'm really—really—not in the mood for this. So I think all of you are done." He threw open the door. "Good night, folks."

I dropped my glance to the ground, trying not to cry from my frustration and the intensity of the situation. Where was Alice? _Why_ did Ugly Blond Guy just attack me like that? Why was _I_ getting thrown out? Why didn't I say anything to the bouncer? I couldn't believe I'd managed to get Edward kicked out, too. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He almost certainly regretted agreeing to keep an eye on me by now. I needed to find a way to release him from this strange sense of obligation he seemed to feel.

The only thing to do right now was go. I took a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and focused on getting through the throng outside the door. I could feel Edward right next to me as I stepped between the little groups of people. When we finally cleared the crowd, I came to a stop and turned to look up at him. An apology for ruining his night seemed appropriate.

He wasn't looking at me, though. He was looking over his shoulder at someone behind him. Suddenly, Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me backward.

* * *

**Shouvley and Project Team Beta are cool.**

**I'm on Twitter now. You can follow me if you'd like teasers for each upcoming chapter.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for being patient. I was temporarily without internet access. (!)**

**Shouvley makes sure I don't use weird phrases from my grandmother's era. Project Team Beta is the bee's knees.**

* * *

_He wasn't looking at me, though. He was looking over his shoulder at someone behind him. Suddenly, Edward grabbed my hand and pulled me backward._

Something sailed by, just missing my head. I heard the sound of breaking glass. Then I was stumbling backward. I was trying to keep my feet under me, but it wasn't working. I was about to fall. My free hand flailed, looking for something to grab hold of.

I didn't land on the pavement. Instead, Edward's other hand met mine and hauled me up close against him. His body swayed backward as he caught me gently. A split second later, I heard yelling. There was a thump and a woman's cry of pain. I peered over Edward's shoulder to see what was happening. Ugly Blond Guy was berating his companion and looked like he might hit her again.

I shivered involuntarily and huddled more closely against Edward's chest. It moved rapidly with the rhythm of his breathing. His arms were wrapped around me and he smelled the way he always did— spicy and warm and wonderful. I hadn't realized until that moment that I knew his scent, but I did without any doubt. For a long moment, I just breathed and tried to memorize the feeling of his arms around me. Then it was over as he stepped back and took my hand.

The hand gripping mine felt tense as Edward spoke quietly into my ear. "Let's get out of here while that asshole is distracted." He started walking quickly and pulled out his phone.

"Yes, I'd like to report a domestic violence incident. Outside the 8-Ball Saloon on First Street. A blond man with acne scars attacking a red-headed woman. The bouncer should be able to help identify him. He was just ejected from the bar. Yes, you can contact me if you need a formal report. Edward Cullen. You're welcome. Goodnight."

Still walking briskly and still holding on to my fingers, he turned to look back at me. "Are you all right?"

The adrenaline coursing through my system must have been affecting my brain, too, because I hadn't thought to check yet. I did a quick inventory of my body. "Yes, I'm fine. Other than being drenched in beer and humiliated. I'm so sorry about this Edward."

He held up a hand. "No apologies necessary. I told your folks I'd keep an eye on you, so I'm just doing my job."

Right. My disgrace deepened. Though I'd left my teens behind for good on my birthday three weeks ago, I still did, as it turned out, need a nanny to look after me. "Thanks," I said, too sourly, and pulled my hand out of his as I came to a stop. Where had we ended up? I looked around to get my bearings for the trip back to the dorm.

He stepped into my field of vision and caught my eye. "Look, my house is only a few blocks that way." He pointed at a nearby street. "You could clean up before you head home."

I hesitated. Maybe he was just being polite. Hadn't I inconvenienced him enough for one night? But he persisted.

"Really, Isabella, it's no trouble."

"All right," I conceded somewhat lamely. "It would be nice to dry off."

We resumed walking. One block passed before Edward cleared his throat. "Uh, I hope you'll forgive me for mentioning this again, but it seems you attract more than your share of un-gentlemanly admirers."

"Yeah. It's just one of my many talents." Irony was good. Maybe it would calm me. I glanced over at him to see if he caught the sarcasm.

Yep, there was a small smile on his lips. "You don't say."

"Not a talent I want, obviously." I didn't want to give him the wrong idea.

"I'm glad I've been around to help out."

"Um…yeah. Thanks again. I can't tolerate much more drama after the last couple of years." I did my best to sound nonchalant. Talking about this always made my heart race. Talking about it to Edward, though, was both terrifying and thrilling me in equal measure, and I didn't understand why.

"What happened?"

"Well…" I hesitated, but decided it was silly to act like he hadn't heard anything from my folks. "You already know the story, right? I got taken in by a boy who seemed romantic and sweet. Until I wasn't ready for…uh, taking things to the next level. He spread a bunch of mean rumors about me. After a while he went…away, and that was it." I hoped Edward couldn't hear the slight tremble in my voice. I didn't know how much to say, how _much_ Charlie had shared.

"He sounds like an enormous jerk, Bella. I'm sorry it happened." His tone matched the sentiment. He really did sound sorry for me.

"Thanks."

"It's good you had friends and family around for support. Obviously, this guy was just poisoning the well."

I could feel the wrinkle between my eyebrows as I turned my head to stare at him. "Whating the what?"

"You know: if he couldn't have you, he didn't want anyone else to have you either. So he needed to obscure your obvious appeal with false rumors." Somehow, Edward managed to keep a straight face while referencing my "obvious appeal".

My stomach twisted. I knew what I was supposed to say, and I said it. "Sure, right. Of course. I rock."

Edward didn't buy it. "Surely I'm not the first person to say this. I mean…you've dated since then, right? Clearly, those guys were into you."

"No dates after that. I mean, not really." Edward didn't respond, so I kept going to fill the silence. "I go out in groups sometimes, but—it's funny, I was just explaining this to a new friend—I think I'm going to sit the whole dating scene out for a while. You know, wait for all the guys my age to get over their raging hormones and learn some good behavior." My last word died away and I couldn't think of anything else to say. Why was I even discussing this with him? He'd probably prefer to talk about some important computer code that needed inventing.

There was still no response from Edward.

Then I heard myself saying, "My friend thinks I should be open to gaining some experience"—my tone suggested what kind of experience—"in the meantime. You know, in preparation for actually having a decent romance someday." I willed myself to stop before this got any more revealing than it already was. I barely knew Edward anymore. Also, I hadn't cleared up the issue of whether he was reporting to my father.

Finally, _finally,_ he said something. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, couldn't you get hurt?" His tone suggested he thought it was a bad idea.

Again, before I thought about it, I spoke. "In some ways, maybe it's less risky than a conventional romance. No complexity means no confusion. You're either attractive to someone or you're not. There's no wondering whether your partner just wants sex and is pretending to like your personality in order to get it."

I could see him scowling now in my peripheral vision. "But, Isabella, what about disease and abuse and pregnancy and…and…the riskiness of exposing yourself to random people?" He sounded really worried.

He was taking this whole watch-over-Bella thing a tad too seriously and it was starting to bug me. "Aw, gee, Edward," I said sardonically. "I didn't know you cared."

He fell silent. We kept walking.

After a few moments, my irritation over spilling my guts vented, I remembered he was only trying to help and felt bad about speaking crossly. "I'm just talking anyway. The right opportunity has definitely not presented itself." It would sound pathetic to tell him that I wouldn't be brave enough to try it, regardless.

"Oh. Uh, here we are," Edward said, stopping in front of his house with the fenced-in yard. A warm glow came from the porch light and tiny twinkling bulbs illuminated two paths through the yard. I had been too nervous to pay much attention last time I was here. Now I realized it was a historic home, and one that looked well cared-for.

He opened a gate and started down the walk of brick pavers. "We have to go around back. That's where I keep the spare key."

"Spare key? You lost yours in all the excitement? I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that. I never take my keys to the bar. It's a foolproof way to avoid drinking and driving." We came to a big shed attached to the back of the house and surrounded by several evergreen bushes. He opened the door and flipped a switch.

The muted lighting revealed that the shed was actually an outdoor shower. Edward stepped in and picked up a bar of soap. He slid open a concealed panel on the "soap" and shook out a key. "Here we go." He stepped back toward me. "Come on in. I'll get you a towel to sop up the beer."

"Thanks."

He walked a few steps, then turned back toward me suddenly. "Did you want to take a shower? I have spare clothes you can borrow." He seemed especially eager for me to wash up.

Was I that smelly? Could he see my breasts through my shirt or something? "I don't know…" I started.

"I really don't mind. The outside shower is freshly scrubbed if you'd prefer that. It's nice when you're in the mood to do some stargazing while getting clean."

I suppressed a huff of frustration. If it would bring this evening to a close so I could stop feeling embarrassed and overly chatty, I'd do just about anything. "All right. Outside is fine. I'll just rinse off and get out of your hair."

Edward gave me a look I didn't understand. "It's no problem, Isabella. I'll hang a towel and some clothes over the rail for you."

He disappeared inside while I stepped into the enclosure and peeled off my beer-soaked clothes. Then I stood back and waited for the water to run hot, which happened in a speedy five seconds. This was so much nicer than the dorm showers. I relaxed into the spray and tried to let the stress of the last hour go.

My head tilted back, and I noticed the starry sky. It took a minute to find the Big Dipper. It was the first constellation I learned. It felt like an old friend. Out of habit, I took a moment to formulate a wish.

It came to me all at once. Tonight's disaster notwithstanding, I couldn't stand the idea that the adventure of my life was over before it had really begun. I _would not_ become that much of a loser.

My throat closed up, but I worked to relax it. The ex couldn't hurt me or Charlie anymore. My job now was to keep the memories and the lingering fears from hurting us. I would focus on that. I would fill my life with school and friends and artwork. I would be okay. I would keep saying it until I believed it.

Ursa Major twinkled at me impatiently. So I closed my eyes and put my heart into it. I wished for the strength to stop letting fear make my choices for me. I wanted to trust a little more, take small chances, and start letting people in again.

I finished just in time. Footfalls approached and I heard Edward clear his throat. "Here you go." A towel appeared over the side of the shower, followed by a t-shirt and a button-up shirt similar to the one Edward wore. "I'll be on the front porch when you're finished." Footsteps retreated.

I dried off and dressed quickly. The clothes were too big, of course, but they would do for the walk home. I tied the T-shirt in a knot at my waist and rolled the too-long sleeves of the button-up to my elbows. It gave me a secret thrill—a brief moment of up in my down evening—to put Edward's clothes on my body. They smelled like him; they had touched his bare skin in the same places they were touching mine. It pleased me to experience this little intimacy even though it didn't mean anything.

I pushed that thought down inside me so that it wouldn't show on my face. Ready to be finished with feeling like a nuisance, I hurried around the house to the porch. He was sitting on the steps. "Thanks again, Edward. Really, I appreciate it so much. And I'm sorry for ruining your evening. I'll see you later." I turned toward the front gate.

"Wait." He ran a hand through his hair. "How are you planning to get home? I could drive you."

"Oh, no thanks. No, I'll…walk. It's a nice night."

"Isabella. It's twelve blocks back to campus, plus your dorm is across the Diag. The night isn't _that_ nice. Anyway, it's dark. You shouldn't walk by yourself."

I held up my key chain and started moving backwards toward the gate while facing him. "Look. Pepper spray. I'm a big girl, Edward. Despite recent appearances, I can take care of myself."

He followed me and looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but he didn't say anything. I reached the gate. It would be rude to just walk away, right? I stopped and held out my hand. Edward just stared at it for a long moment. Then he took it gently like he wasn't sure how to shake a hand, and simply held it, gazing at me.

"Goodnight, Isabella."

"Goodnight, Edward."

* * *

It wasn't until I'd gotten back to my room and started undressing that I realized I'd left my clothes at his place. In my haste to get out of there, we hadn't talked about how to exchange garments. I rolled my eyes at myself and drew a long breath. Really, why couldn't the humiliation just be over already? I climbed into bed and pulled the duvet up around my ears. At least Edward wasn't somebody I had any kind of chance with, I consoled myself. I couldn't be any worse off with him than I already was.

I snuggled deeper into the bed and blinked the tears out of my eyes. Tomorrow, I would figure out how to return his clothes and talk to him for five minutes without making a fool of myself. I was sure it could be done. I just hadn't managed to do it yet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Shouvley helps make me a better writer. I highly recommend Project Team Beta.**

**Twilight isn't mine, but original plot lines are.**

**Warning: This story is rated for Mature audiences only.  
**

* * *

The ringing of my phone woke me at 8am. I knew right away it wasn't a fellow student calling me that early on a Saturday. "Hello?"

"Hello, Isabella. It's Edward. You left your things at my place last night."

And just like that, I was back in the uncomfortable emotional space of last night. "Right. Sorry about that. I didn't think about it until I was getting in bed. Maybe I can bring your clothes back later today and pick mine up."

"I didn't mean to suggest you walk all this way again."

"Really, it's no problem. I like walking."

"No, you don't. At least, you didn't before."

"The exercise will be good for me."

"The—? Look, I was calling so I could offer to drop by with your stuff. What time is good?"

"Edward, really. My schedule is kind of crazy, and I don't want to trouble you. Maybe you could just put the clothes in a bag on your porch. I'll pick them up sometime this weekend."

"Isabella, _stop_," Edward said, a bit forcefully. "Just – how about meeting me somewhere? For dinner. We can exchange clothes and I can…um, fulfill my pledge to your parents properly. I don't have any idea how you're really doing. We keep meeting in these damsel-in-distress scenarios, like you're a character in some ridiculous paperback romance."

"Well," I said tartly, "if you wanted to check up on me, you should have just said so."

"Isabella." I could practically hear him clenching his jaw. "Just _meet_ me. I have something I want to discuss with you. An opportunity."

Oh. I wondered what kind of opportunity. He was a pretty influential guy. Could he help with my jewelry venture? I began to regret my bratty comment. That was no way to build a business. "Um, sorry. I just hate troubling people. Where would you like to meet?"

He sounded calmer now that I was going along with his suggestion. "Thank you. How about somewhere near my office. I'm working today. Red Hawk at four o'clock?"

"All right. See you then."

* * *

Finding myself with some time to kill until I met Edward, I stopped by Alice's shop in the afternoon. I wanted to apologize in person for disappearing last night and visit if she had a few minutes. Honestly, I needed a boost in my mood.

"Bella!" she cried as soon as she saw me. "I'm so sorry about last night!"

"That's okay, Alice. It wasn't your fault."

"I just don't know how we missed each other. I feel terrible. I gave that bouncer a talking-to, by the way."

"You did?"

"Of course. Did you know someone called the cops? I don't think it was him, since he was all surprised and 'No problems here, Officer' when they came in looking for a statement." She shook her head. "What a loser. So, did your friend help you get home all right?"

"Uh, sort of. It's an embarrassing story. Can we talk about something happy instead?"

"Well… all right." She sounded doubtful. "Only if you're okay."

"I will be. In fact, I have a meeting later today to discuss a potential business opportunity. I've been trying to launch my jewelry business for a while, but I haven't had time to really think about it since moving here. This dropped right into my lap. I'm sort of excited about it."

"What kind of jewelry? I have an interest in that sort of thing"—she waved a hand around her shop—"in case you hadn't noticed."

I _had_ noticed, but Alice stocked her shop with really high-end items. I didn't really think of my work in that way. Still, it couldn't hurt to show her.

"Here, I have a couple of pieces with me," I said, digging three cloth pouches out of my bag. "Each necklace or bracelet comes with a brief story and a few illustrations. I do it to bring focus to my work—the designs come out better that way—but people really seem to like seeing the inspiration behind the art."

I arranged the pendants and their chains on the counter and laid out the corresponding miniature story books. Alice picked up each one in turn and peered at it carefully. I waited quietly and watched her face. I knew next to nothing about how retailers made buying decisions. I wondered if she would mind giving me some tips about how to do a sales pitch.

"Bella, these are beautiful! And the storybook idea is really clever. I haven't seen anything like it before. I know you weren't trying to pitch me, but I could easily sell some of these. Would you be interested?"

I stared at her in surprise. "Really?"

She laughed. "Yes, really. What do you say?"

"Yes! Wow! Thanks Alice."

She smiled. "Don't get giddy yet. We'll have to set prices and talk about inventory and all that."

"Sure, sure. Don't pop my bubble," I said enthusiastically. "This is the easiest sale I've ever made. Maybe I'm on a roll. I hope things go as well this afternoon."

"I bet they will. Your work shows talent, Bella. It seems like you also have a knack for marketing. People want to buy something unique. Selling them the story behind the original jewelry piece really makes it one-of-a-kind."

Alice's praise gave me that warm, glowing feeling again. It's wasn't often I heard nice stuff like this about myself.

"Now that _that's_ settled, what can I do to help you get ready for your date this afternoon?" She looked me over carefully.

"It's not a date. Just a business meeting."

"Whatever you say. I have a feeling you need to look your best, and achieving that is _my_ talent." She pointed to her spa treatment chair. "Sit down and let me see what I can do about those circles under your eyes…"

* * *

Two hours of relaxing and refashioning later, there I was, standing at the bar of the Red Hawk, looking for Edward. He was nowhere to be seen. I was just about to pull out my phone and text him when a familiar hand settled on the nape of my neck.

"Bella!" boomed Jacob's voice. "Did you stop in to say hello?"

"Actually, I'm meeting someone. I didn't know you were working tonight."

"Yeah, I'm just picking up an extra shift. Football Saturdays are crazy around here. Hey, I'm going to ask the hostess to seat you in my section. Be back in a flash." Before I knew it, I was seated in a cozy booth and Jake was bringing me a soda.

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip. It burned a little bit going down, and I recognized the taste of gin and tonic. "Jacob Black!" I hissed at him. "You know I'm not legal yet. Are you trying to get yourself fired?"

"Calm down, Bella. No one's getting fired. Anyway, it's better than the crap they serve at keg parties, am I right?"

I frowned and opened up the menu so I could pretend to ignore him. My act was wasted on Jacob, though.

"Hey, good thinking. Check out the menu so I can put in your order before the dinner rush, eh? I'll give you a minute."

I cast a glance at Jacob's relaxed walk as he headed toward the kitchen and reminded myself I was trying to come out of my shell. Be open to experiences. So what if I wasn't quite twenty-one? As of this afternoon, I was officially in business for myself. I picked up my glass and took a healthy swallow.

By the time Edward found me a few minutes later, I was feeling relaxed and comfortable.

"Hi, Edward." I smiled up at him.

"Isabella. Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm not usually this rude when I invite someone out."

"It's fine. A friend of mine is a waiter here. He's been taking care of me."

He sat down. "A friend of yours?"

"You met him the other day at the bookstore. Jacob."

Edward studied me from across the table. "The connoisseur of werewolf erotica?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, yes, that was him. The erotica was just for kicks."

"Was it, now?" He gave me a droll smile.

"Not like that! Kicks from asking for something...you know. Something I'm not supposed to be looking at."

"Should I let your folks know about this, Isabella? That their daughter is amusing herself by requesting racy reading materials from hapless bookstore clerks?"

I gave him a level look. "Definitely not. What's up with that, anyway? Why are you wasting your time checking up on me? Not that I don't appreciate all the assistance. I do. You really saved me last night. I just don't see why you would want to bother."

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, I really did tell your folks I would be available to you, Isabella, but also"—

"Ahem." Jacob cleared his throat loudly to catch my attention. "I see your _date_ has arrived, Bella. Edward Cullen, right?" His voice was hard, but I could hear a slight unsteadiness behind it.

"It's not a date, Jake." I didn't want Edward thinking I'd told my friends we were involved. How awkward. "Edward knows my folks. And we have a little business to discuss."

Jacob took his time looking from me to Edward and back again with narrowed eyes. "Well then. What can I get you to eat while you take care of business?" His tone was flat and his fingers twitched, like they wanted to make air quotes.

I wasn't very hungry. "Is the smoked duck salad good?"

"Yes." He said it petulantly.

"Excellent, we'll both have one," said Edward. "Now, if you'll excuse us…" Jacob narrowed his eyes at Edward and stalked away toward the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized. "Jake is really…uh, protective of me."

Edward shook his head. "Seems like he considers himself more than a friend."

"He's not. Even if he wants to be right now. Remember my strategy? No dating until I'm older, and boy behavior is less hormone-motivated." I lifted my glass to take a drink and was surprised to find it empty. Gin and tonic certainly went down easily.

Jacob appeared and switched out my empty glass for a full one, leaning close and letting his lips brush my ear as he spoke. Ugh. I tilted my head away. "Here you go, Bells." His hand lingered on my neck and shoulder, giving it a long squeeze before he disappeared again.

Edward raised an eyebrow. "You might want to fill him in on your plan."

"Look, can we talk about something else?" I said it urgently. "This is really embarrassing. I feel like you've gotten the wrong idea about me."

"Oh? And what idea is that?"

"That I need protecting. From men who have…have…"—I blushed scarlet—"dishonorable intentions."

He looked incredulous. "Clearly, you do need it." Then a frown darkened his face. "But I'm actually more concerned with saving you from yourself."

My voice became frosty. "I'm sorry?"

"This notion you have about waiting to date and picking up experience in the meantime? Through sex with randoms? It's a terrible idea."

I glared at him; my arms folded themselves tightly across my chest, but he didn't back down.

"Really, truly, dangerous for you."

"You're not in charge of my life, Boy Genius."

He narrowed his eyes at me and then spoke again. "Look," he said, frowning, with a tone like he was pleading with me to be reasonable. "I'm trying to help. Think about it. Everyone dates in college. It's one of the reasons people go. But you're going to try skipping all that. Then, when you can't stand it anymore, you're going to select a man to hook up with, chosen specifically because he doesn't want to get involved? Guys like that – they won't view you as a person. They'll think they have license to treat you poorly."

Neither of us said anything for a moment.

Then Edward spoke again, softly. "You're worth so much more than that, Isabella."

For some reason, it was that last sentence that broke the spell he'd created with his monologue. I squirmed and looked away. "Right, yeah."

He cocked his head. "You're very uncomfortable hearing compliments. Why?"

"I'm not uncomfortable. Just…nothing special."

"But you're proving my point. You'll let men treat you like the cheap, featureless apartments they'll take you back to. You'll be the most expedient way to satisfy their need. Not someone to love. Those guys don't deserve you."

I turned my face down toward my lap, on the verge of tears. I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere, at anything. Maybe if I stayed still enough he wouldn't be able to see inside me anymore.

Wanting to avoid any more scrutiny tonight, I took a big swallow of my drink and tried to change the topic of conversation to something less personal. "You said you had an opportunity to discuss."

Edward nodded. "I did say that."

I reached for my messenger bag to show him the pieces of jewelry I'd brought along. As my hand grasped the flap to lift it up, he spoke. "Choose me, Isabella."

I stopped and turned to stare at him, confused. "Choose you?"

He started speaking quickly. "I've already accepted the responsibility to look out for you. This is no different. Sooner or later, according to your plan, you will embark on a purely physical relationship with someone, and we've established that you haven't thought through the risks very clearly. I have."

"Wait. Are you suggesting that we-?"

"Yes."

"But didn't you just finish saying that it's a terrible idea?"

"Yes, because of the risks. Still, if you're determined to stick with your plan, I can eliminate those risks."

I continued to stare. Was this _actually_ happening? Edward Cullen was sitting in front of me, offering to…to…what? "Be my fuck buddy? I mean, I've never even _had_ sex."

"That term is a bit crude, don't you think?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. How on earth did I let myself say that out loud?

"Isabella, I'm offering to help you gain what you're looking for in a safe way. Your lack of experience is exactly why my version of the plan is better than yours. You need someone who will show you what it's like to be respected and treated well, regardless of whether _you_ think you deserve it."

I was in free fall, trying to think of something—anything—that would make sense of this conversation. None of my systems were responding despite repeated attempts to engage them. My thoughts were entirely blank. My breathing was choppy. My mouth wouldn't work. All I had at the moment was stuttering. "I…I…"

Edward took a deep breath and held up his hands in a placating motion. He spoke in a tone meant to be soothing, gentle. "I'm sorry. I can see you weren't expecting this." He was silent for a moment, studying me. "You don't have to decide tonight. I _want_ you to think it over, more thoroughly than you did when hatching your little scheme. What I'm saying is this: if I can't convince you to abandon your plan altogether, then, please, pursue it with me."

I was still speechless. Also, his gaze was becoming too intense for me to meet any longer. I looked down at my hands and bit my lip.

"If you're determined to do this and you decide to take me up on my, uh, proposal, we should probably discuss some details." He ran a hand through his hair a few times, trying to smooth it back and failing. "How about this: I'll be on the front steps of the Union at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. If you don't show up, it means you aren't interested. We can pretend this conversation never happened. I'll always be available if you need assistance, of course, but I won't bother you. If you do come, then we'll talk." He stood up and placed a few bills on the table. "Please allow me to treat you to dinner. This should cover it." He touched me gently on the shoulder, and I looked up into his eyes. "Good night." His steps died away quickly in the noisy restaurant. I was left, sitting there, wishing I hadn't met his glance. It was that same, true expression that had haunted me ever since Edward had reappeared in my life six weeks ago, and it tugged at my heart.

* * *

_Four years earlier…_

_Shouting from the living room startled me and made me drop the bracelet I was weaving. I leaned as far forward as the rocking chair would allow and managed to retrieve it from the floor of the porch without even standing up. A loud creak issued from the chair, and I wondered if I could drown the yelling out by rocking. I rocked furiously back and forth for a moment. Their voices were still audible, though, and curiosity was beginning to take over. I wondered what the argument was about. They sure sounded upset. I suddenly felt a little guilty_._ Mom told me over and over it wasn't polite to eavesdrop. This didn't count, though, right? I couldn't help hearing when they were this loud. _

_"…promised that there would be Internet so that I can do my work!"_

_"Edward, I thought there was. We can look into getting it set up –"_

_"Great, Mom. Just great. That will probably take weeks in a dump like this."_

_Charlevoix wasn't a dump! I felt the urge to stick my tongue out at him but I didn't, even though he couldn't see me. I was older now. A mature, almost-sixteen-year-old girl like me didn't go around making faces like a dumb little kid._

_"…didn't even want to come, and now I'm supposed to 'find ways to occupy my time'? I had a way. _Now_ what am I supposed to do? Snail mail my code to Emmett and make him retype it into the development space?"_

_Code? Was Edward playing some sort of an online game? Or did he mean code like cryptography? We'd just studied that in school and it was kind of fun. I wondered if he would let me play. I'd just won a National Merit Scholarship, the first in Charlevoix in ten years. I was confident I'd be able to keep up with him._

_"…not always about you, young man. I'd like you to think of your grandmother for a moment and the reason we are all here."_

_Suddenly, the screen door banged open, and Edward burst out of the house. He threw a pen so hard it split open on the driveway. A beat-up notebook followed. A cry of frustration split the silence_. _Then it was quiet again. He stood there on my porch, breathing heavily. He didn't look at me. He just stared out at the lake. _

_I studied him carefully. After a moment, I decided to say something. Maybe I could cheer him up a little. _

_"Hey," I offered._

_He didn't turn his head. "Hey."_

_"I'm making this bracelet for my friend Jessica. Want to see?"_

_He sighed deeply. Then he took a step toward me. "Sure." He bent down to peer at the jumbled mass of threads I held up. "Neat." _

_I looked at him to see if he meant it. His eyes were red and shiny, as if he had been crying, though his cheeks were dry. So I said the obvious thing. "I'm sorry about your grandma, Edward."_

_He just looked at me, not saying anything. It made me feel a little unsure of myself. Was it wrong to say that? I didn't think so. Maybe something else was bothering him. I thought for a minute. "If you're bored, I could play your game with you." _

_He sniffed and looked confused. "My game?" _

_Oops. I ducked my head. Now he would know I'd been listening. "I just heard you say something about code earlier…" Maybe he'd said it more than once, and I wouldn't get caught._

_"Oh. Code." Understanding colored his voice. "I'm writing some software with my roommate from school."_

_That sounded impressive. I didn't know anybody who programmed. "Oh. I just thought… We, um, studied codes in school this year. Some of them were really hard. I figured out all of the teacher's examples by myself, though."_

_I peeked up to see how I was doing. Edward was watching me, but he didn't look mad. He looked…better._

_"Want me to go get my code books? It'll just take a minute." I waited for his answer. I knew when he had decided. It was clear on his face. He didn't look so grown up anymore. He looked like me, like a kid. _

_"Sure." He nodded. "I'll be right here."_

* * *

"Bella, are you okay?" I hadn't even noticed Jacob walk up. I glanced around the restaurant. Things seemed to have slowed down a bit.

"Um…yes," I said, attempting to convince myself along with him. I frowned and took a big gulp of my drink. "I'm fine. Just surprised by how dinner went."

"Ah. Well, I'm done at 10 o'clock. Maybe you can fill me in then."

I didn't feel like talking to Jacob about this. I didn't feel like talking at all. I needed to think. "Thanks, Jake, but I'm kind of exhausted. Maybe I need to sleep off the drinks."

He gave me a goofy smile and leaned in, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Maybe you could sleep them off at my place."

What was that supposed to mean? I found myself speechless for a second time in one evening.

"I wouldn't object if one thing led to another, you know," he continued. "Just friends helping each other relax."

I felt fuzzy from the alcohol, but I was pretty sure Jake had just asked me to—wait. Is _that_ why he gave me the drinks? Now that I suspected the reason _for_ the gin, I was furious. "What the hell, Jacob? You think getting me drunk is a good way to ask that?"

On top of my anger at Jacob, I was rattled because Edward had been right about guys treating me poorly. It was happening right here, right now. Jacob, one of my best and oldest friends, had just tried to get me drunk so that I'd say yes to hooking up. It was like stepping onto a stair that turned out to be missing.

Any other time, I would have been mollified by the uncomfortable look my friend was now wearing. Not today. I'd been through too much. All I could think was that I needed to get out of the restaurant and away from the madness of the last hour. "Don't you have customers, Jake?" I stood up and gestured to the cash on the table. "Keep the change. I need to go."

* * *

**What do you think? Click review and let me know.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello to all the readers from A Different Forest. It's so nice to have you with us. And an extra-big thanks to Tarbecca for the shout-out.**

**Shouvley is my sounding board. Props to Project Team Beta.  
**

* * *

_October 15, just after dinner at the Red Hawk, Edward's POV  
_

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

I barely noticed anything on the walk from the restaurant to my car.

What had I done?

I sped down the parking ramp, going too fast. I shouldn't have been driving. My mind wasn't there. It was back at the Red Hawk, twenty minutes before, re-living the moment I'd made the dumbest, worst mistake of my life.

Why didn't I just tell her how I felt? I should have asked her out. At minimum, I could have expressed my interest.

But that guy, Jacob, had to be our waiter. And he had to keep putting his hands all over her. I got the message, loud and clear. He wanted her, and I was supposed to back off. I was surprised he didn't lift her onto the table and take her right there.

Okay, not really. Just…she hadn't seemed concerned about his behavior. Sitting there across the table from her, it hit me. Maybe she'd thought about getting her "experience" from him.

I felt run over. And then I reacted. Badly.

My God, I left her bewildered. Speechless. I don't know what she was expecting me to say, but I clearly shocked her. Of course I had. What was _wrong_ with me?

I slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a car I hadn't seen as it sped by me. Where did it come from? I breathed in deeply and tried to pull myself together. I could still fix this.

She was going to say no. Right? If she was interested in me—interested in being friends, even— she'd have gotten in touch during the last few weeks. Asked for directions, restaurant recommendations, something. She could have found some excuse to break the ice, but she didn't. Maybe she would say no.

What if she said yes?

_Fuck._

I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't treat her like some random piece of ass. She was _Bella_. She was soulful. She was beautiful. She was…everything.

If I backed out now, she was going to think I didn't want her. Again.

I couldn't see a way back from that.

_Fuck._

* * *

_Bella's POV as she walks home from the restaurant_

I didn't understand. I didn't understand what had just happened. Edward—why would he suggest that?

Bicyclists and pedestrians passed me, but I barely noticed. It was growing dark. There was a chill in the air. It registered that my neck felt cold and so did my hands, but I couldn't focus on that long enough to do anything about it. My mind just kept going over and over the events of the last hour.

Was Edward just being nice? _Was_ it nice to offer me sex? It certainly seemed like he was being altruistic. There was really no way to do sex entirely for someone else's benefit, though. He would get _something_ out of it. I puzzled over the possibilities.

Was it a joke? Some elaborate prank? No, Edward wasn't mean-spirited like that. Not as far as I knew. Was it a test, then, to see if I could stay out of trouble? I rolled my eyes at myself for being so paranoid. That was too unlikely to be true. I knew he didn't _like me_ like me, so that couldn't be it. Besides, if he had feelings, he'd have asked me out instead of asking me to hook up. Maybe this was just pity sex? Like, he felt bad for me because of my horrible experience two summers ago with James? But offering to sleep with me himself seemed like it was taking things a bit far.

Eventually, I found myself at the door to my dorm room and managed to locate my keys. I struggled to get the key into the lock and finally made it inside to my bed, where I sat down in a haze. Angela was getting ready to head out, but she froze midway through putting her coat on and peered at me carefully.

"Hellooo, Bella. Hitting it early tonight?"

"Sort of. Not on purpose. Jacob was the waiter just now, and he brought me, like, two drinks with dinner."

"Two? How quickly did you throw them back?" She looked at me curiously.

"I was…distracted."

"By?"

"A conversation I was having." I was still staring at the floor, my brow furrowed.

"Must have been some conversation."

"Believe me, it was."

Angela laughed. "You aren't usually so cryptic, Bella. Come on. Spill it."

I finally looked up at her. "But you're heading out and—this? This could take a while." Also, I didn't know how much I should say. Edward was a public figure. I didn't want any damaging rumors about him getting out.

"Give me the condensed version."

"Okay. Um…a person who I've admired from afar for a long time has just offered to…to…" I trailed off. "I don't know." It suddenly seemed hard to explain.

She gave me a searching look. "You don't know? Does this person who made the offer know?"

I rolled my eyes at her.

She let out a breath. "Really, Bella? You're going to make me drag it out of you?"

I couldn't think of a word to utter.

Angela put her bag down and unwound her scarf. "Okay then: Twenty Questions, it is."

My roommate was a psych major who loved to hear all about my life. I was familiar with her Twenty Questions strategy for drawing out information. I could do this.

"Does it involve something illegal?" she said.

"I don't think so."

"Drugs?"

"No."

"Gambling?"

"No."

"Theft?"

"Definitely not." I could feel my brain beginning to unfreeze.

"Sex?"

"Yes."

"Yes? Sex?"

"Yes."

"So, to sum up what we know so far, a man who you admire has offered you something involving sex?"

I closed my eyes and clamped my lips shut to suppress the nervous giggle that wanted to escape. Then I nodded instead.

"Let's see. A date? Did Jacob ask you on a date?"

I shook my head with my eyes still closed. "Not a date."

"Jacob made you an offer involving sex?"

I cracked an eye open. "Well, yes, he made an offer—a _lame_ offer—but I'm talking about someone else. It's somebody you don't know."

"Wait." Angela waved a hand in the air. "Jacob finally made a move? What did you _say_?"

"Can we not talk about Jacob, please? That's a whole other thing."

"Really? But…" She cut herself off. "You're the boss. Okay. So, you've received an offer of sex from someone who is not Jacob?"

"Right."

"Uh…I think I need a context. How well do you know this guy? Wait—_was_ it a guy?"

"Really, Angela?"

"Just checking. So? How well do you know him?"

"Our grandmothers were best friends. His family spent a summer with mine a while back. He's a few years older than me, but we seemed to have a lot in common and…I don't know. It was a nice summer." I couldn't help the smile that crept over my lips. It _was_ a nice summer. Only the ending was terrible.

"Hmmm, let's see…wait, I've got it! It's a friends-with-benefits proposal." She leaned toward me, almost yelling, enthusiastic like a game show contestant.

"Jeez. You say that like it's something that happens every day."

She shrugged. "I read Cosmo, and relationship advice is everywhere online. This kind of thing does happen every day."

"Maybe, but not to me."

"True. Or me." Quiz bowl excitement over, she resumed her usual helpful demeanor. "It sounds like you like him. What are you going to do?"

Yeah. That was the question, wasn't it? "I have no idea. I don't even understand why he would offer."

"You could ask him."

I just shook my head. She'd misunderstood. He had explained himself. He didn't want me to get hurt. My confusion was about why he cared in the first place. He'd made it clear that summer—I hadn't been important to him in the same way he was important to me. I was destroyed for a while afterward, but I had never told anyone about it. I didn't want to start now.

"Well, it's your call, obviously. Anyway, if you think you might be interested, here's the sex-positive advice I've read: ask questions, lay out your expectations, make sure it's safe for all parties. Then, if it seems right, and you want to, go for it."

"It sounds so reasonable when you put it that way."

"Then my work here is finished." She buttoned up her coat and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Don't stew too hard. The answer will come to you." The door opened and then closed behind her. Then it reopened. "And, Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Details." She flashed me a huge grin. "I want to hear details."

The door closed again with a click, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I had been expecting a really different evening than the one I'd just had. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe I needed to sleep on it and hope things would be clearer in the morning. Then again, the machinery of my mind was beginning to operate again after talking with Angela. I needed to make a decision before tomorrow afternoon.

When I spied one of my necklaces on the dresser, the idea came to me all at once. I could analyze Edward's offer like it was any business proposal. I knew how to do that, at least. I grabbed a pencil and notebook and started writing.

_Proposal: Edward Cullen has offered—no, insisted—on becoming my friend-with-benefits._

_Pro—Duh. Edward Cullen. _

_Con—The potential for emotional attachment…me getting attached to him. _

_Con—Edward Cullen is NOT interested in dating you, or he would have asked you on a date._

_Pro?—Probably my best chance with Edward._

_Pro—His point that he will treat me well. He's a knight in shining armor compared to Jacob._

_Pro—I would never regret having him as my "first"._

_Con—Who was that gorgeous blonde I've seen him with? I hope not his girlfriend._

_Question—Unless, maybe they have one of THOSE relationships?_

_Question—This is crazy. Am I really—really—going to do this?_

I shook my head. _Get a grip, Bella._ I was losing track of this analysis. It was natural to have questions. I'd written them down, and I would get answers. With all the noise in my head committed to paper, I became very quiet listening to myself.

My mind weighed in: it's not a _totally_ crazy idea.

My heart's take: I'm so tired of being careful all the time. I need something to get excited about. Maybe this is a way to start a new, adult chapter of my life. Anyway, no matter how it turns out, I can put it down as life experience.

I heard these answers, but I kept waiting. The most important part of me—the one I relied on the most for making decisions—hadn't spoken yet. And then my gut gave me its answer: you can trust him.

That caught me off guard. I didn't realize I felt that way. I couldn't have explained why. Yet, the longer I considered it, the more convinced I became. Following Edward's lead was the right thing to do.

My inner turmoil was replaced by a sense of resolution, and I couldn't help feeling a little thrill of excitement. I was going to show up to meet Edward tomorrow. Who knew if he would have satisfactory answers to my questions? If he did, though, I was going to be—at some point—_with_ Edward Cullen. Oh. My. God. I felt a slow burn start just thinking about it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Shouvley points out the redundancies in my language. She is the very opposite of redundant. Thanks to Project Team Beta.**

* * *

_October 16_

Sunday was gray and chilly. Dry, autumn leaves broke under my shoes as I stood on the sidewalk in front of the Student Union chewing on my lip. Though I was able to shift my weight from side to side, I didn't seem to have control of my feet. They wouldn't move. This arrangement with Edward had seemed like a good idea last night, but now, clutching my list of questions like I was going to a job interview, I felt ridiculous and unsure.

The clock on the front of the building said 1:55. "Go with your gut," I whispered to myself. "Do this."

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and reviewed my mental list of all the reasons Edward was trustworthy. Our families had known each other for generations. He was strangely serious about protecting my welfare. He had apparently passed the Charlie Swan test, since my dad had asked Edward to keep tabs on me. He had even been my friend once, with no apparent ulterior motives.

Still, my feet remained where they were on the sidewalk. What if I were no good at it? Would Edward call the whole thing to a halt? I didn't know how to be seductive. I didn't know how to please a man. Then again, maybe that was the whole point? Maybe he got off on the idea of my inexperience. He acted like he was doing this to be nice, but no one is that selfless. He had to be after the sex.

I'd read a celebrity profile or two about Edward Cullen. Those articles made it pretty clear he was used to female attention. Ann Arbor _was_ lacking in supermodels and celebrities. Maybe our family connections made me the next best thing to someone from his usual crowd. You know, the discretion that comes from having secrets to protect. No way would I want my folks finding out about this.

Motion on the steps caught my eye, and I looked up. Edward. He was descending toward me, running one hand through his wind-whipped hair. I couldn't tell which direction he had come from. Had he seen me standing here, stuck on the sidewalk? My insides sank. It was time to commit: in or out? I took a deep breath.

"Isabella. You're here."

I nodded. I didn't trust my voice to speak without shaking.

He squinted up at the gloomy sky and hunched his shoulders. "Want to get some tea inside and then find a quiet place to talk?"

"Okay."

Edward gestured for me to walk up the stairs ahead of him, so I summoned every last bit of strength I had and forced my feet to move.

"The Union Café has a really interesting selection of teas," Edward offered. "All sorts of difficult-to-find varieties."

I nodded dumbly, focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Do you like tea?" He sounded a little worried.

I decided to give speaking a try and cleared my throat. "I do. I drank it with my Grandma."

He held the door open for me. "That's right. She always had freshly made sun tea that summer we stayed in Charlevoix. Today calls for something a bit warmer, though."

Edward convinced me to try a Japanese Genmaicha that had tiny kernels of popped rice floating alongside the tea. After he paid for our drinks, we walked out into the main hallway of the Union. He scanned the area for a moment before leading me to an alcove with two battered armchairs placed side by side. It was down a side hallway that wasn't used much on weekends. We settled into our seats. I stared at my tea and hoped he would speak first. I had no idea how to get this conversation started.

"Do I assume correctly that you being here means you're accepting my offer?"

I was able to take a breath simply from the relief of not having to break the silence myself. "I think so." Pause. "But I have a few questions first."

"Of course," he said, his eyebrows pulling together into a little crease. "Ask me anything."

"Okay. How's your health? Have you been tested lately?"

He looked unhappy for a moment, and then it passed. "Yes. I have a clean bill of…uh, sexual health, if that's what you're asking."

"Great. That's great." I scanned my list and picked another question. "Um, what are your preferences about birth control?"

"Birth control?" He shifted in his chair. "Um, well…my preference is that the method be effective. Other than that, it's up to you. I want you to be comfortable."

"Okay, thanks. That's nice of you." Was it weird to use conventional politeness? "What about location?"

"Location?"

"Yeah, you know—my place or yours?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Do we really need to decide right now?"

"You're right. Probably not." I checked my list frantically for a question that wouldn't make me sound neurotic.

I took a breath. "What about the blonde woman I saw you with a couple of times? I can't do this if you have a girlfriend."'

"Blonde woman?" He was momentarily confused. "Oh, you mean Rosalie. She's one of my business partners. And Emmett, her fiancé? He would probably flatten me if he thought I was interested in her."

I was unexpectedly relieved by this information. "That's good. I wasn't sure if you two were together or not. I…" I stopped and stared at the paper for a few moments.

"What is it?"

I steeled myself. If I couldn't talk about the dirty details, I didn't have any business planning sex with anybody. I needed to know what I was getting myself into.

"What kind of sex do you, um, _like_ to have, Edward?" There. I'd asked.

His eyes widened, probably in horror. I started to wonder if I'd committed a breach of etiquette.

"Um. Because I'm not very…experienced—like, not at all—and if there are certain unusual _things_ that you like—"

"Isabella."

"—then this might not work out—"

"Isabella, stop."

"—and we should probably clear that up sooner rather than later—"

"_Isabella_!" he pleaded and caught my hand in his. I felt a warm glow spreading from where his skin met mine. It slid through me pleasurably leaving energy and wholeness in its wake. "You don't need—I'm not interested in—" He couldn't seem to spit the words out, so he paused to take a breath. "What I'm trying to say is…" He turned his body toward mine and looked right into my eyes. "You don't have to worry about that. Again, I want you to feel comfortable. You get to choose what we do." He gave my fingers a squeeze and then sat back.

Despite the fact that Edward had just referred to engaging in…activities…with me, I wasn't turned on, and I didn't feel lascivious. I was disarmed. I'd seen that look in his eyes again. The one that told me I held his attention completely. It dissolved my concerns and left me slightly dazed.

He gestured to the list apprehensively. "Is that it? Did we cover everything?"

I shrugged. "Yes."

Some of the stress seemed to go out of his shoulders. "Good. I have just one thing to add."

Oh. I hadn't thought of asking whether _he_ had any questions. "Okay, shoot."

"Forgive me for not explaining this yesterday, but there is one condition to my offer. I want to be the only man you see for as long as we have this arrangement."

"You mean, no dating?"

"That's right. No dating, no frat parties, no hanging around in bars, and definitely no other…arrangements. The point of this is to protect you." He looked down at the floor and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "It would make my efforts useless if you enter into an additional relationship and end up mistreated by that person. Agreed?"

I thought about it. I should have been offended that he felt the need to forbid promiscuity. But I wasn't. Instead, I remembered Jacob and his behavior last night. There was such a contrast between that and the way Edward had proposed the very same thing. Jacob made me feel insulted and mistreated. Edward's offer, though, left me with no doubt that he cared, even if it was in a twisted sort of way. Anyway, it never would have occurred to me to be with anybody else while I had him in my life. Or bed.

"Yes, agreed."

We sat there quietly for a moment. Then the silence grew uncomfortable. At least, it did for me. Now what? I shifted in my seat and fake-stretched to buy a little time. I glanced casually over at Edward to cover my trepidation. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring down at the floor and seemed to be working up to something. Wait, were we going to start today? Was he waiting to be asked back to my dorm room? I wasn't ready yet. I hadn't shaved my legs and my sheets weren't clean and, and… My heart startled into a breakneck pace. It made me feel lightheaded, so I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the chair. My eyes fluttered back open at the sound of Edward clearing his throat. He peered at me intently.

"Isabella, you look…well, you look really worried. Are you sure about this? It's not too late to change your mind."

My equilibrium returned, and my pulse began to slow. Was he really this considerate? Or maybe he just wanted to be able to tell himself that I made the choice on my own. Either way, it was kind of him to offer me an out. However—in the space of a heartbeat—I didn't need one anymore. He'd just looked at me like he used to, as if I mattered to him. Any thought I'd had of walking away vanished instantly. I had missed that feeling so much. I couldn't turn away from it, even though I knew it might end up hurting me. I was in this now, fully and completely, regardless of my nerves.

However, that's not the kind of thing you can just _say_ to someone you barely know anymore, even when you've recently agreed to an exclusive getting-it-on kind of relationship. I answered him with a different version of the truth.

"I'm sure. I just don't know what comes next. When do we get started?"

He stared at me for a moment, surprised, then smirked. "In a rush, are you?"

I could feel the color rising to my cheeks. "Hardy har har."

The smirk grew. "'Hardy har har'? Really?"

"Be nice, Edward. This is super-awkward. I hate feeling awkward."

His face grew serious. "You're right. I'm sorry. Please know you can tell me anything."

"Like what?" I asked cautiously. I didn't want him to laugh at me again if I could help it.

"Why don't we start with something easy to talk about. Mmm…how about your studies? Why Fine Arts and Business together?"

That didn't sound too hard. "Well, the art part started when I was a kid. I learned a Native American jewelry craft from my father's best friend. I did it to kill time on the boat while the two of them fished. I got pretty good at it eventually. My favorite part, though, was learning the parables that were represented in the traditional designs. The jewelry they wear isn't merely pretty, it's a tangible reminder of important stories."

I paused in my soliloquy. Edward had picked up my hand and was tracing a soothing path up and down my fingers, back and forth across my wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Holding your hand and listening to you talk."

"Okay." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

He put my hand down. "Look, it's clear you feel on edge. I just think we should spend some time getting comfortable with each other."

It sounded reasonable, but I had difficulty imagining a time when I would grow used to him. He was beautiful and successful and confident, and I was…not.

Edward continued. "There's a photography exhibit I want to see at the UM Museum of Art. Maybe it could provide some inspiration for your work. Will you go with me next Sunday?"

I'd been wanting to see that exhibit. And, lulls in conversation were not only acceptable at an art show, they were actually expected so that one could pay attention to the art. In short, it sounded perfect. "Yes. I'd like that."

"Good," he said, assuming the posture of an intent listener. "Now, I believe you were about to explain your interest in studying Business?"

I relaxed back into my chair and focused on how good his attention felt while trying to pick up the loose end of the conversation. _Maybe I was wrong_, I decided. _I could definitely get used to this_.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate it more than you know.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Greetings to everyone who heard about this story on The Fictionators blog. It's been nice to meet you all. Thanks to LJSummers and Kassiah for the rec. **

**Shouvley tells me when my characters behave in ways that are, uh, out of character. Enchantedbytwilight from Project Team Beta rocks, too.**

* * *

_October 20_

In a world of my own, I didn't notice Angela calling my name as I walked back to my dorm after class.

"Earth to Bella," she said as she tapped on my shoulder and fell into step beside me. "I've been chasing you for the last two blocks."

"You were? Sorry. I was just thinking about something."

Her expression relaxed in understanding. "Is this about the friends-with-benefits thing? What happened with that?"

I wondered if mentioning it had been a mistake. Angela was a good friend with a kind heart who never broke a confidence, but this involved someone besides me. I didn't think Edward would want anyone to find out what we were doing.

I bumped her shoulder with mine and gave her a sheepish grin. "Yes, it's about that friends-with-benefits thing. Thanks for your advice by the way. It was good."

She gave me a sly smile and a double-thumbs-up. "Go, Bella. Glad I could help." She didn't say any more. Angela was discreet that way.

"I'd love to share all the details with you but"—I sighed in regret—"I can't. Would you settle for some vague, secretive information instead?"

"Of course! Really, I'm just wondering if it was good. A good experience, I mean. Are you glad you tried it?"

"Uh. Well. We didn't do anything yet. We just met to negotiate some terms."

She raised an ironic eyebrow. "Gee, that sounds really sexy."

"Yeah, yeah." My face grew hot.

"Wait, is that a euphemism? Like, he 'negotiated' your 'terms.'"

"You're hilarious. Really funny."

"Sorry," she laughed. "I'm a sucker for the _easy_ jokes. Get it? Easy?"

"Are you done now?"

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"The thing is, we decided to take it slow and get to know one another a little bit before we, uh, proceed."

Angela looked surprised. "Huh. That's not at all how I imagined this kind of thing working." She shrugged her shoulders. "Live and learn, I guess."

Her surprise was identical to my own. It seemed like a relationship formed for the purpose of sex should, at minimum, include regular intercourse. But I couldn't say I was unhappy with the way things were unfolding with Edward. I welcomed the opportunity to spend time in his presence. Besides, all this time that I'd already spent being awkward and unsophisticated around him had been bad enough. I didn't think I could survive being inept at sex, too. I needed a little time to build up my confidence.

"Right, yeah. Live and learn."

* * *

After some quality girl time with Angela and a quick dinner in the dorm cafeteria, I headed back to my room to get started on one of my semester projects. I picked up the sheet printed with the professor's guidelines and read it again, muttering to myself. "Art is the physical representation of intangibles such as ideals, emotions, the passage of time… its representational nature is evident in the work of…blah, blah, blah… yadda, yadda…pick an event from childhood that influenced the person you are today. This will provide the basis of your creation…"

The paper fluttered onto the pillow beside me. Picking an event really had me stumped. I wished I had something sunny to use. I didn't really want to discuss the pain of personal issues in an art class. I'd just finished a year of therapy.

I was way behind on this project. I'd be lucky to finish by the end of semester. It was stressing me out so much I could feel a headache starting.

I didn't create well under pressure, so I decided to take a snooze and try again in an hour.

* * *

_Four years earlier…_

_I made my way down the front steps and around the side of the house. Maybe Edward was out back. He liked to work at the picnic table when the weather was nice. _

_I hadn't been sure it was a good idea to have Edward and his mom and his grandma stay with us for the summer. I barely knew them, and Mrs. Masen was so sick. I was worried it would be scary. Grandma Marie had been taking care of her best friend just fine, though, and all the rest of us, too. Even Charlie didn't seem to mind all the people in the house._

_Partway through the visit, I'd noticed that something had changed. I looked forward to seeing Edward each morning in a way I couldn't really explain. He was always planning a game or project or trip for the two of us, but it didn't matter what we did—it was always fun. He made things fun. But, also, he listened to me and wanted to know what I thought. He told me how he felt about stuff, like the programming project he was working on and his grandma's cancer. He teased me sometimes about being younger than him, but I didn't think he meant it. It was like…he cared about me. _

_On my way around the house, I passed a pile of large, smooth beach stones Edward and I had collected. A smile crept over my face. When he found out I wanted to make stone coat hooks and sell them at the Venetian Festival, he insisted on helping. We'd had so much fun that day, talking while we scoured the shoreline, and brought home way too many rocks. _

_Having feelings about a boy was new to me, and sometimes I could barely keep it to myself. I didn't want to act like a dumb little girl with a crush. But next week he would be leaving to go back to school. I wanted to keep talking to him and spending time with him, and I didn't know what to do. The one idea I'd come up with was asking him to meet me at an art competition. My art teacher had set the whole thing up for six of us from my school, and it happened to be at the University of Michigan, this October. _

_I wanted to talk to him now, before I lost my courage. I wanted to see him smile when I told him my idea. I really liked that smile—it made me feel warm and happy inside. _

_I came to the corner of the hedge that separated the side yard from the BBQ patio, and heard his voice._

_ "...inappropriate, man. She's just a high school kid." _

_I stopped in my tracks. Was he talking about me? I didn't know what to do. I was accidentally eavesdropping again. I'd already heard him, though. If I kept going, he'd know. Indecision froze me in place. _

_"I'm not into her. There's no one else to hang out with." Silence. "Dude, really? Play dates?" He made a scoffing noise. "Look, get off my back, Em. I've almost solved it. It's taking longer than I expected to debug that section of code, that's all. It's distracting, being up here." Silence. "Yeah, thanks. No problem. See you next week."_

_Careful not to make a noise, I turned around and retraced my steps back to the porch. My body felt strange, like it wanted to run until it found somewhere to hide. I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but my hands. His voice was an echo in my head: just a kid…play dates…I'm not into her…no one else to hang out with…it's distracting here. _

_I thought he liked me. I thought we were having fun together. But his words sounded like he didn't consider us real friends. My limbs were heavy, and thinking about this hurt far more that I would have imagined._

_This must be why Mom told me over and over not to eavesdrop. You heard things you weren't supposed to. You heard things that sounded terrible. _

_The steps creaked as someone walked up them and headed for the rocking chair next to mine. I could tell it was Edward when his feet came into view. My head, neck, and shoulders didn't want to relax out of the turtle-like pose they had adopted. _

_"Hey!" Why did he say it like he was happy to see me?_

_I didn't look up. "Hey."_

_"Did you figure out the secret message yet? Or have I finally stumped you, Puzzle Master?" _

_I swallowed and tried to meet his gaze. "This one is pretty tough. It might take a few more days." My hand went to my back pocket to make sure the folded paper was safely there, out of sight, with my email, phone, and address written above the solution I'd figured out this morning. I'd thought it was a good way to make sure he didn't lose my information, but now I didn't want him to see it._

_"Okay, but don't take too long. The next one is waiting for you, and it's my best yet." He grinned. "Want to go to the beach today with the grandmas? We need a few more Petoskey stones so you can finish your mosaic."_

_"Uh, no thanks." I'd never turned down an invitation from him. His eyes met mine in question._

_I had a sudden hope. Maybe I'd misheard his phone conversation. _

_"Edward? I'm going to be in Ann Arbor in October for a student art competition. I was thinking maybe you could come and we could…" My words died in my throat as I forced myself to look up at him._

_All the playfulness drained from his face and he looked surprised for a moment. Then his brow furrowed as he looked away from me, off into the distance. "I don't think that's a good idea, Bella," he said slowly._

_"You…you don't?"_

_He took his time answering. His tone was cool and distant, one I'd never heard before. "No. I'll be pretty busy with school and, um, my project with Emmett. I won't have time for anything else."_

_"Okay." I couldn't think of anything more to say. He had a chance and he didn't want to see me in the fall. This wasn't something he wanted to continue. I wrapped both of my arms around myself, but couldn't stop from shivering._

_He noticed. "Are you all right?"_

_I shook my head no. "I'm cold."_

_He took a deep breath. "You should go inside, then." He stepped off the porch and headed down the road toward town._

_I didn't see him again that summer. He left early the next morning without saying good bye._

* * *

A commotion in the hall interrupted my half-slumber, reminding me that dorm living definitely had its drawbacks. I sat up, hugged my knees to my chest, and tried to shake that haunted feeling that comes from reliving upsetting memories. I hadn't let myself remember the details of that day for years. Maybe because the memory still made me cringe, even after all this time.

After my consciousness was somewhat restored, I noticed a crinkling underneath my left thigh. I reached down and tugged out the assignment guidelines again. That day with Edward was an event from my past. Maybe that would work. I did need a direction for the assignment.

Let's see…Edward's words really made me question my perceptions. I'd been so _sure_ that he felt something toward me. It was heartbreaking to hear him say so casually that he didn't. I spent months trying to figure out what had happened and why he'd left so suddenly. Eventually, I realized that he'd inadvertently given me the answer. It was the age gap. He couldn't see me as anything more than a pesty kid, hanging around him and wasting his time. And I was so caught up in my feelings for him that I hadn't noticed.

After Edward, I didn't make friends as easily. I tended to over-analyze people and their behavior. I didn't really date at all until James, and look at how that turned out. Instead of going with my gut feeling to stay away from him, I'd thought and thought and eventually talked myself into dating him. It was a disaster, and now I was still a confused mess.

I rolled my eyes at myself and sighed. No way. There was no way Edward Cullen's betrayal of my over-enthusiastic, youthful overtures toward a romance was going to be the "inspiration" for a piece of jewelry. It would ruin my semester. Anyway, it was a moot point now. There was no need to continually remind myself of that hurt. No, I would just have to find inspiration somewhere else.


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's an early update for you all. **

**Shouvley has Bella's back (and mine, too). Project Team Beta is a pleasure to work with.**

* * *

_Rosalie's Point of View, October 23_

I ran a hand through my hair as I stared at the spreadsheets on my laptop. Putting together the annual financial report for Oodles was giving me a headache.

"Hey, Babe." Emmett came breezing through the dining room, picked up my hand from where it rested on the top of my head, and sat down next to me. "You shouldn't work so hard on a Sunday. Want to take a break and go for a run with me?"

"Really? I thought Edward was your running buddy these days. Part of his back to basics plan, and all that? I wouldn't want to intrude on your coder geek bonding time."

"Ha. Us two coder geeks made it possible for you to buy this house." He placed a kiss on my palm and then held it against his cheek. "Edward keeps begging off. Says he has plans or something, but I don't know who he'd be hanging with. We're the only friends who made the cut when he changed things up."

A smile crossed my face. My fiancé liked to sound offhand, but it meant a lot to him—to both of us—that Edward counted us among the good influences in his life.

"He probably has a lady he doesn't want you to know about," I joked.

Emmett frowned. "I don't think so. After that thing with Kate? No way. That was so messed up. Poor guy.

I shivered. "Yeah. It seems like he's had a bad time with romance in general."

Emmett cocked his head. "It does?"

"All those women wanting to be with him, but he can never find the right one. The girl who he does take a chance on turns out to be using him for his fame. And he was just telling me about some youthful summer romance that ended badly." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I remembered. Oops. I wasn't supposed to talk about it.

He got a faraway look. "Yeah, that's right."

"Em, I messed up. He asked me not to talk about it with anyone."

"No one? Not even me?" He looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not even you."

He smiled his most charming smile. "I just need a little more to go on. So I can understand what it is, exactly, that I'm not supposed to be talking about. I can't not talk about it if I don't know what topic to avoid, Babe."

I sighed. This was a load of crap. Edward didn't get to dictate what I discussed with my fiancé. "I was in the bookstore with him a couple of weeks ago, and he bumped into this girl…Bella, I think. She was with a guy, and Edward got pretty upset, but he didn't want to talk about it. All he would say was that things 'ended badly' between them. She seemed younger than us, though, so how serious could it have been?"

He was staring off into the middle distance, chin propped up on his hand, finger resting on his upper lip. "Bella, you said? I think it was the summer before I met you. We had agreed to stay in town over the break and build the search engine, but then he had to head up north with his family instead. His grandmother was dying, and it was some big family-and-friends last hurrah. He didn't get much done on the engine, but I figured it was to be expected. Then he started talking about a girl who was up there with him. I couldn't resist giving him shit about it."

"And her name was Bella? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." Emmett was quiet for a moment and then he laughed. "He was so transparent. Clearly he had a thing for her, but he kept saying he didn't. So I did everything I could to wind him up—accusing him of doing disgusting stuff with her, teasing him about how he'd found true love with a high school student, stuff like that."

"Wow. You are such a boy sometimes."

"Come on, Babe. I was a college freshman, obsessed with girls, and totally lacking in maturity. Cut me some slack. I got it together well enough to impress you."

"Aw. And you still impress me, my sweet. So, what happened?

"Don't know. He showed up early for fall semester and seemed real down. I chalked it up to the grandmother, but I suppose it could have been the girl."

"Mmmm," I mused. "You should have seen his face last week. Really. Maybe she's the one who got away."

"Maybe." He stood and pulled me up with him. "About that run. You up for it?"

"Oh, I'm up for it. The question is, are you up for it?"

He leaned down and kissed the end of my nose. "Are you trying to trash talk, Babe? That's cute."

"Shut up." I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help it.

He winked at me. "Let's go."

* * *

_October 23, Bella's Point of View_

Sunday at two o'clock, I walked toward the art museum. I could see Edward waiting for me at the top of the steps leading to the museum's entrance. He leaned against a pillar, hands in his pockets, as he watched me climb the stairs. I kept a hand on the rail to steady myself. The way his eyes seemed to peer into me made me self-conscious. The solidness of the metal under my fingers helped me keep going.

"Isabella."

"Hi, Edward."

He held out his hand for me to take. "Shall we?"

I hesitated. We'd talked about it and agreed to it. That was different than doing it. This was the moment where it really started.

I reminded myself of my reasons. He seemed so confident that this was the right thing to do. I felt like I could trust him, though I didn't know why. The opportunity had presented itself, and there wasn't a chance I was going to walk away from it.

M_aybe I would find out he still cared._

The errant thought startled me back to reality. I couldn't allow myself to daydream about this. I knew with certainty that it would only end up hurting me. Edward's hand still hung there, waiting.

"All right. Sure." I placed my hand in his and felt _it_, just like last week at the Union. A soothing, energizing warmth seeped into me where his skin touched mine. What was that?

Edward led me inside and up another set of stairs to the special exhibit space. This time I held tightly to him instead of the bannister. Oddly, it felt safer. He turned his head to look at me and responded by tightening his own grip. He had that look again, as if he was studying me. It made sense, I supposed, since the goal of today was to get more comfortable with each other.

I felt like I was in a trance. He led, I followed, and I couldn't think of a thing to say, but it was somehow okay. We were carrying out the steps of our agreed-upon plan: meet at the museum, view the exhibit, and become familiar. Familiarity breeds comfort.

The display started at the right side of the room. Edward came to a stop at the first photograph and read the information card affixed to the wall. I stood at his side, directly in front of the art, looking at it. It drew me in immediately. A young girl, wearing a halter sundress, stared out at me. She had been walking down a road away from the photographer but turned back to look at the camera. She was smoking a candy cigarette, and she looked way too experienced for her age.

Edward's voice broke through my consciousness as he read aloud. "…Mann's daughter Jessie suspends her activity and gracefully balances a candy cigarette in her hand, the innocent miniature of a blonde and gangling twenty-something beauty. The artist's printing style lends a dramatic and brooding quality to her work."

I hummed in response and wondered what it was like to grow up that way, the subject of a parent's art. I stood there thinking and letting my eyes wander over the details of the photo until I felt a tug on my hand.

Edward's eyes were slightly crinkled at the corners, like he was happy. "Ready for the next one?"

I nodded and let him tow me to the next photo. Here Edward dropped my hand and stood closer, his palm on the small of my back. My heart started to race from nerves but then calmed quickly as I realized I could feel the spark from his touch there, too. My body instinctively shifted back so I could lean into his fingers and feel more of the soothing energy. With effort, I focused on the photo in front of us.

This second image was as captivating as the first. Three children sprawled on a daybed on the screened porch of a cabin. They were reading the comics. They were naked. Artistically naked—no genitalia were visible. It was unsettling in a positive way. The lack of clothing transformed the photo from a mundane family snapshot into something that made you stop and think.

Edward read aloud again. He spoke quietly, his mouth close to my ear. "For the series _Immediate Family,_ posed or simply arrested in their activity, Mann's children (who often appear nude) convey both primal and playful aspects of human behavior."

I felt his warm breath flowing over my skin and a tingle ran down my spine. I hoped he would say something else, and he did.

"What do you think of this one, Isabella?"

What I thought was that I wanted him to keep whispering to me in that smooth, quiet voice. "I think the people in that family trust each other deeply. Or that the kids will need therapy someday."

Edward released a little huff of laughter that skated across my neck.

Together, we walked on to the next frame. I came to a stop and closed my eyes before I'd really seen anything of the image. It was a trick I often used at exhibits to give myself a moment of rest and approach each piece as freshly as I could. This time, though, my goal was to spend time savoring the nurturing flow of energy from Edward. I could almost hear it, like a hum that permeated my body all the way through my bones. Then, I felt Edward's hand glide from my back and curl around my waist.

Startled, I opened my eyes suddenly. Before me was a scene of a girl stretching on her toes to reach the top of the doorway she stood in. Her fully-clothed family sat nearby on comfortable furniture, just out of her sphere, talking and visiting. She was naked. I felt a kinship with her.

Right this moment, I was feeling naked to Edward—naked to his watchfulness, to the touch of his hand, to his presence. I was naked under his attention in a room full of people who didn't notice the interaction between the two of us. A slow burn started in the pit of my stomach and spread until I could feel it all the way to my toes.

"Is this all right, Isabella?" He whispered the words gently and squeezed slightly with his fingers.

I nodded, trying desperately to stay upright instead of sagging backward into him and embarrassing myself. I felt a little funny, maybe even dizzy. Then, all at once, my world tilted and my vision went black for a second. I could feel myself falling, on track to crash into the picture, and then…I wasn't. A strong arm held me around the middle, and a large hand closed around my shoulder.

"Whoa! Bella, what happened?"

"I'm…I need to sit down." We found a bench and I sat.

Edward crouched down in front of me and peered at my face. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes," I muttered, looking down. So embarrassing. I couldn't even handle a little fully clothed, acceptable-for-public touching without getting overcome. "Just a little unsteady."

Edward looked at me for another minute and pursed his lips. "Hmmm. Okay. Coffee next, I think."

* * *

Once we were outside in the fresh air, strolling along with our to-go cups of coffee, I felt better. Edward cleared his throat and looked at me as he nudged my fingers with his. "May I?"

I hesitated, wanting to make sure I felt steady on my feet.

"Please, Isabella? I think it's important."

"Holding hands? Why?"

"I can feel you relax when I touch you." He said this hopefully. With relief, almost.

"Yes, but too much relaxation leads to falling down, as I demonstrated earlier."

A smile of satisfaction spread across his face. "You've come to my second point, which is that you obviously need to grow accustomed to me touching you. You need to have at least a small amount of control. It wouldn't do for you to lose consciousness every time we're together." He broke off with a chuckle as if this would be hilarious—innocent little Bella, overcome by his charms.

I felt a sudden, overwhelming irritation with playing that role in our relationship. Was it _always_ going to be like this, with me trailing behind him in every aspect of life, and him pointing it out? Words poured from my mouth before I was even aware of thinking them.

"You mean, when we _fuck_, Edward? You don't want me to faint when we _fuck_?" I said it too vehemently. As soon as I heard myself, I regretted my words, and squeezed my eyes shut. "Sorry. That was inappropriate."

I opened my eyes to see him looking at me, a little warily.

"Really, I'm sorry. Thank you for thinking of it. I agree." I wrapped my fingers around his and then stared ahead, carefully not looking at him as I headed back toward my dorm.

Finally, he spoke. "I was looking forward to hearing your thoughts about the exhibit today. I've never seen an art show with a real artist before."

"That's nice of you, but I wouldn't call myself a real artist. Not yet, anyway. I'm still trying to decide if the title fits."

"Having standards is a pretty good sign. I hope you found some inspiration. I'm sorry we didn't end up speaking much."

Oh. Regret flowed through me again. In addition to the touching, we were supposed to be getting comfortable _talking_ with each other. And he was being considerate of what might put me at ease. My nerves were turning me into an idiot.

"I'm sorry. I guess you're right about needing to get comfortable with each other. I'm not usually this tongue-tied."

He gripped my hand more tightly in his and rubbed it gently with his thumb. "I understand." We walked in silence for a moment. "How about this? Next Sunday, if you're free, we could play chess. In public, at a café. And just…talk." He gave me a crooked smile. "No fucking. Okay?"

I couldn't stop the hitch in my breathing and the smile that spread across my face. "Yes, okay." For a moment, I felt like we were on equal footing again the way it was that summer.

A moment was all I got because we had arrived at East Quad Dormitory. Edward raised my hand to his lips and placed one delicate kiss on my knuckles. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Isabella. Until next week."

"Goodbye, Edward." I stared after him as he walked away down the street. He was so polite, so thoughtful of me and my comfort. Whoever captured Edward Cullen's heart would be a lucky girl.

* * *

**Note: The photos referenced in the story are real works by the photographer Sally Mann. They are, in order of appearance, (1)"Candy Cigarette", (2)"Untitled" (from the series "Immediate Family"), and (3)"Hayhook 1989". Text in quotes (read aloud by Edward) was adapted from the website of the Museum of Contemporary Photography. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to Shouvley and EdwardsMate4ever for the wordsmithing and the moral support.**

* * *

_October 30_

The bell on the door jingled, announcing my arrival to Alice's shop. The place looked empty. Maybe she was in the back room with a client? I decided to busy myself with looking for a good spot to display the jewelry I'd brought.

"Bella! I'm so glad you could come by today." She swooped out of her back room and cleared a space on the sales counter. "I've got a couple of clients scheduled for next week who will love, love, love your work. Come on—show me the goods!"

The necklaces were packed carefully in black velvet bags. Each bag had a pocket sewn on the side to house the storybook that illustrated the meaning behind the necklace. I laid the three I had with me on the counter and began to unpack them one by one as Alice oohed and aahed appreciatively.

"This one is my favorite, I think," she said, picking up the pendant I'd just finished this morning.

It had been my fastest work ever, although work seemed like the wrong term. The design came to me all at once, as if someone had planted the idea fully-formed in my brain. Completing the steps to fabricate the necklace and the book was a total pleasure. I wished all of my projects went that easily.

"It reminds me of the Japanese woodblock prints by Frank Lloyd Wright. Is that what you were going for?" she asked.

I had started with a thick, stylized oval of red-stained cherry wood, oriented vertically, and carved it to create a bordered edge. Attached at each side was an oxidized copper plate I'd molded to suggest the shape of a hand. Each plate attached to a pale pink cord that ended in a copper clasp. Finally, for the surface of the oval, I had created a reddish-pink lily out of thick aluminum sheeting and enamel paint. I was really pleased with how it came out. I hadn't been sure of my ability to do the fine, detailed work. The lily was glued into place and partially covered with a layer of clear epoxy, so that it had dimension. The end result was sort of like a cameo but with more color.

I was surprised by Alice's generous comparison, and I laughed uncomfortably. "No, that hadn't occurred to me." Wait, that sounded inappropriately sarcastic. "I mean, no one has ever compared my jewelry to anything like that. But now that you have, I see what you mean."

"Of course you do, Bella. I'm always right about matters of style. Come on, let's see the storyboard for this one."

I pulled out the tiny, chocolate brown book—it fit on the palm of my hand—and lifted the top cover. A long strip of attached paper unfolded behind it like the bellows of an accordion. The paper displayed words and watercolor scenes of a couple walking around a museum. There were a few close-ups of a hand caressing a hip, and a pair of lips whispering into an ear. The words told a story of intimacy and desire. Of how a simple glance left the story's narrator feeling naked.

Alice studied the storyboard and the necklace carefully, looking back and forth between them. "I see it now," she finally cried. "Those fasteners on each side of the pendant are his hands on her curves. When the clasp is closed, it's shaped like an eye—the intimate glance between them. But what about the lily?"

"It's a symbol of desire, I think."

"Bella. This is…" She trailed off. "Well, it's amazing."

I smiled shyly at her. "You really think so?"

"Oh yeah," she said with feeling, nodding her head. "Are you kidding me? The necklace is beautiful on its own, but the storybook makes it come alive. I would feel so sensual wearing this, almost like Jasper was putting his hands on me and kissing my neck."

I blushed a bit.

Alice cocked her head to one side and studied me, a grin spreading across her face. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

I felt the heat in my cheeks spread. _No details_, I reminded myself. "Let's just say I took your advice about not abstaining completely from the dating scene."

"I knew it!" She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "Didn't I say it? We all have needs."

I just shook my head, fighting to keep the grin off my face. She was like one of those cute little yappy dogs, all vocal good feelings and enthusiasm.

"Well. Whoever this friend-with-benefits is, he's a lucky boy. I can see your passion leaping off the page. You two must be scorching hot in bed."

"Alice!" I protested, looking around to make sure no one else had joined us in the shop. "It's not like that yet. I need to…get used to him first."

She cocked her head. "Huh? I don't get it. Won't things be boring once you're used to him?"

"You don't understand." I shook my head. "We haven't _done_ anything yet. I keep freezing up or falling down or freaking out when we're together. I'm actually amazed he's still in this thing."

"You're kidding, right? You're talented, you're smart, and you're hot. Why on earth _wouldn't_ he still be in this thing, Lady Emo?" She waved a hand around in front of herself, illustrating her words as she spoke.

I shifted uncomfortably, my face and shoulders scrunched up. "Thanks, Alice, but I think you're a little biased."

She sighed. "Why are you treating your face like that? You'll get horrible wrinkles." She pointed to her spa chair. "I think it's time for a nice, soothing facial. You need to relax that death grip you have on poor self-esteem. Have a seat."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Her tone was sincere. "I can't solve all your problems, but I can prepare you to deal with them better. We need to get you to relax around him so that _he_ can start helping _you_ relax. If you know what I mean." She gestured to the necklace. "With passion like this, you two are going to combust if you don't get some satisfaction. Now, step into my office."

* * *

Edward was waiting for me when I arrived at Espresso Café two hours later. True to his word, he had set up a beautiful stone chessboard and ordered a big pot of tea.

He stood up as I approached. I could tell he was looking at me, but I wasn't ready to meet his eyes just yet. So I looked at the floor, at the other diners, and at the thin air as I walked. I knew it was dumb, but every time we shared one of those looks, I felt certain he could see the contents of my heart. I needed more time to discipline my feelings. I didn't want him to know how nervous I still was.

"Hello, Isabella," he said as I reached him. "I ordered a pot of tea to share. Jasmine Green. I hope that's okay."

"I love jasmine tea," I said, as he pulled the coat off my shoulders and draped it over a nearby chair.

"Good. Let me pour."

The cup was warm when he handed it to me. "Thanks." I lifted it to take a sip, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Careful. It's hot."

The usual glow of his energy radiated from the spot where he touched me. I made a mental note to remember this sensation when I had doubts about our arrangement. Something that made me feel this well, this whole, couldn't be a mistake. Finally at ease, I met his eyes and found myself wondering if my touch felt the same for him.

I held his gaze, really looked for his emotions, but found myself distracted by the color of his irises. Besides the deep emerald and copper I'd noticed before, there were tiny flecks of brown and sky blue. I'd never noticed before. They were the most unusual color I'd ever seen. I could have stared for hours. He didn't look away once.

"Wow," I finally said, and put my mug down.

"What?"

"Your eyes. I've never seen anything like them."

Edward smirked. "Thank you. It's rarely been my eyes that people comment on as exceptional."

I was silent, letting that sink in.

"Is that a reference to your brain power? Or the software you invented? Or the fact that the name of said software is now a verb?"

"Something like that." He looked amused, and his eyes searched mine with interest. "You seem more relaxed today, Isabella."

"A friend helped me out with a shoulder massage. Also…"

He raised his eyebrows. "Also?"

I debated for a moment. We were supposed to be getting comfortable with each other. To do that, I realized, I needed to get used to being open with him again—about some things, anyway—instead of hiding my feelings.

"Also, I think you're right. Your touch has a calming effect on me. Now that I'm becoming accustomed to it, I mean."

He didn't gloat or joke around like I half-expected him to. Instead, he took a breath and held it while his eyes searched mine. "Good," he said, almost nonchalantly. "That's good." He took a sip of his tea and motioned toward mine. "It's cooler now."

* * *

We played a couple games of chess. Edward won the first handily. The second was closer. I started catching on to his moves well enough to thwart him some of the time. I took pleasure in making him work for the win. Plus, the game brought out my competitive side, and it was a welcome distraction from the fact that I didn't know how to talk with Edward. I didn't know what I could possibly have to say that he would find interesting. In a game with rules and structure, I forgot to be nervous. I was comfortable showing some of myself. I had an idea about what to do.

"Nice game." I offered him my hand after his second victory.

He just looked at it, amused. "You _do_ realize you didn't win, right?"

"I'm displaying good sportsmanship. While you apparently feel the need to reiterate who lost. Not cool, Cullen. Not cool."

"You know, Isabella, I think you might be enjoying yourself." He looked at me with a gentle smile warming his features. "I'm glad."

His sincere tone—almost wistful—threw me off. _Were we done with the banter? And why was he glad? For the sake of me not being such a basket case to put up with? So we could get on with the sex?_ My breathing sped up as the nerves I'd struggled with last time we met inexplicably returned full force. I tried in vain to think of something I could say that would recapture the lightness of just moments ago.

"In a rush to get on with it?" I said this flippantly, maybe a little desperately. "Get on with getting it on?"

His brow furrowed. "No, Isabella. I meant it when I said I wanted us to be comfortable with each other. I'll keep playing chess or going to art exhibits, or doing whatever it takes for as long as you need me to."

Somewhere in the fog of my anxiety, I knew he was trying to soothe me. But the thoughts wouldn't stop. _As long as needed for _what_? So I could relax enough for the sex to be good? So he could tell himself I wanted this and avoid feeling like a perv?_ Edward's concern with my comfort had seemed so considerate before, so caring and thoughtful, but suddenly I was having doubts.

I felt deflated. I tried to put on a game face, but it was clear I hadn't succeeded because Edward started to look worried. He ducked his head so that we were face to face.

"Look at me, Isabella. This is for you, all for you. I'm trying to prevent you from feeling like an object. _That's_ why I want to take as much time as necessary. I want you to see that I enjoy all of you—your company, your ideas, your sense of humor…and, eventually, your erotic side as well. But only when you want that." He raised a hand hesitantly and smoothed my hair back behind one ear.

The terrible pressure in my throat and chest lightened as his skin brushed mine. For a moment, I couldn't even remember why I was upset. Then he glanced away as he dropped his hand and spoke flatly. "I told you and your folks I would look out for your well-being. This is one way I can do that."

I nodded silently. As if I needed another reason to feel lame, here was the undeniable evidence that Edward had been right all along. Arrangements like ours really could leave a girl with feelings of worthlessness. Despite all my efforts at independence and protestations that I didn't need a nanny looking after me…well, as it turned out, I did. Or, at least, I needed a special kind of nannying that only Edward could provide.

I felt a fingertip on my chin, lifting it up gently. "Isabella? Are you okay?"

"Sorry," I said. "Just…um. I'm appreciating your wisdom and…feeling stupid."

He looked sad for a moment and then seemed to be forcing himself to say something. "If you're not sure about this, Isabella—"

I saw my chance and stopped him before he could finish.

"Are you trying to weasel out of our deal? Don't even think about it, Edward," I said lightly.

He stared at me for a second with an expression I couldn't decipher. Then I watched as the confident, slightly aloof face I knew and loved slid back into place.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Now, let's talk about getting together again. Are you free for dinner out next Sunday?"

"Yes." Always. I had secretly started thinking of Sundays as "our" day and never scheduled anything else then.

"The place I have in mind is a gastropub—loud, but that makes it perfect for private conversations. Maybe we should talk about 'getting on with getting it on' as you so alliteratively put it."

I nodded. A little thrill went through my body. I couldn't tell whether it was nerves or anticipation.


	13. Chapter 13

**It's truly great to work with Shouvley. Thanks to Project Team Beta.**

* * *

_November 6_

"Do my eyes deceive me? Is that Bella Swan in the flesh?" Angela stood in our doorway, a towel wrapped around her wet hair, just returned from the community shower down the hall.

"No hallucination—it's me. I'm heading out again, though. Dinner plans."

She looked at me appreciatively. "If this is you breaking out of your shell, I'm impressed with your level of effort. I _am_ sad we're missing each other again, though. I wanted to hear how it's going with your gentleman friend."

I smiled. Leave it to Angela to use such a charming, old school term for this decidedly weird and modern thing I had going with Edward. "I know. It seems like our schedules never line up anymore. Want to plan a girls' night for later this week?" I hoped she didn't catch my subtle evasions. In general, I loved hearing my roommate's psych-major insights into relationships, social ties, and life. I just wasn't ready to discuss my feelings about Edward yet.

Truthfully, I had avoided thinking about them at all for the last week or so. It had been easier to immerse myself in my studies and the work on jewelry pieces for Alice's store. Whenever my thoughts strayed to Edward, I felt a warm glow of anticipation, but I didn't let my mind go any farther. I wasn't supposed to be having feelings for him, but I was pretty sure that, despite my best efforts, I did. And I didn't know what to do about that.

"All right, I'm holding you to it." She gave me a hug. "Catch you later."

* * *

I'd spent the morning constructing a new piece for Alice to sell. My sketchbook had gotten a workout over the past week as I tried to come up with an image that suited the feelings I wanted to evoke. I needed something expressive of growth, life force, and wholeness achieved from two separate parts. Ultimately, I had designed a bracelet with a motif of butterflies made from two hearts placed point to point. The heart pairs started out distant from each other but grew closer and closer until, finally, the last set became a butterfly and fluttered off.

I was happy with the cuff, but the accompanying storyboard didn't feel right. I'd worked out of order this time by conceiving the piece of jewelry before writing the tale that was supposed to have inspired it. The story was of two would-be marathoners forging a relationship over the course of several training runs. While the couple cools down with a walk one day, a butterfly lands on the woman's hand. It sits there licking the salty perspiration from her skin for the longest time. It's at that point, awed by the magic of the moment, that she realizes how elated she is to be sharing it with this man; magic seems to happen around him.

The story felt forced to me. It was too elaborate. Something about it nagged at my mind. It made me anxious and unsettled. I'd felt this way in the past when my work wasn't honest. That's how I knew it was time to start trying to understand my feelings about Edward and our agreement. I'd left myself plenty of time to walk to the restaurant where I was meeting him. I hoped a nice stroll would help me think.

I stepped out of the dorm onto the sidewalk and had started to head toward the restaurant when I felt an arm snake around my waist. A large body pressed into my side. A kiss landed on my cheek. It startled me and felt wrong. My body jerked away instinctively.

"Jeez, Bella, chillax. It's just me." Jacob grinned down at me, his face a foot above my head.

I took a deep breath. "Sorry. You startled me. Can't you say hello like a normal person?" His flirty touching irritated me much more than usual.

"I _did_. It's not my fault if you're too preoccupied to notice. Where are you going? Mind if I tag along for the walk?"

I didn't want to answer his first question, so I ignored it and responded to the second instead. "Sure. I'm headed downtown. Which way are you going?"

"Downtown works."

We walked along in silence for a few moments. I was glad to see he left some space between our bodies.

"So, Bella. I know I wasn't very smooth last time we saw each other. There's no excuse, really, but it _was_ a busy night, and I felt hassled. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh," I said, surprised because I wasn't expecting the gesture. My anger with him had faded after a couple of days, and I hadn't thought much about it since. I had been busy thinking about other, better friends-with-benefits proposals. Since he was apologizing, I decided to be nice about it. "Thanks, Jake. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

He seemed to relax a bit. "That's a relief. I hate feeling like you're mad at me." He was silent for a few more steps. "So?"

"So, what?"

"Have you thought about it?"

"Thought about what?"

"You know. About my offer."

I stopped in my tracks and turned to stare at him with narrowed eyes. "You mean the offer you just _apologized_ for making?" I imbued the words with as much significance as I could muster.

Jake sailed on blithely. "I wasn't apologizing for the _offer_, Bella. I'm sorry that I just blurted it out. I'm sorry for trying to get you tipsy so that you'd say yes. But my offer stands. I think it's kind of flattering, actually." He put both arms around my waist and started pulling me in.

I saw red. Before I had even realized I wanted to, I pulled my arm back and punched him in the jaw.

"OUCH!" I yelled, as the crunch of bone crashing against bone registered.

He let go of me, and I collapsed in a pile on the chilly sidewalk, cradling my hand in my lap.

"Shit. Bella, are you okay?" He crouched down beside me. "You could have used words instead of breaking your hand on my face."

I was really in pain. I couldn't form a response, it hurt so much. Still, a sense of calm began to wash over me. A second later, the reason became clear.

"Isabella?" Edward's voice by my left shoulder was smooth but alarmed. "What happened? Are you all right?"

I managed to put a few words together. "No. I hurt my hand."

"Doing what?"

"Punching me," said Jacob impatiently. "Bella, what's he doing here?"

I still wasn't coherent, really, so I just shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm meeting Isabella to help her with a study project," Edward explained easily. "I had a little bit of extra time, so I stopped by to see if I could give her a ride." He turned to me. "We should get some ice on your hand before it swells."

"Yes. Uh…" I looked around me like there might be a freezer nearby on someone's front porch.

"I'll get some from the dorm kitchen. I think there's an ice machine in there," said Jacob. "Be right back." He trotted off.

Edward stared after him for a moment, brow furrowed. "Isabella, this may not be the right moment to ask, but I need to know if things have changed between you and Jacob. Are you…?" He trailed off suggestively.

"No. No, he was trying to apologize for his behavior the night you and I had dinner. But he acted like an even bigger idiot in the process."

"I see," said Edward, his face relaxing into a smile. "I'll have to remember to avoid offending you, then." He took my good hand and helped me gently to my feet. "What do you think? Shall we head to the hospital for an X-ray?"

"No. Please, no." I hated hospitals. I hated the idea of missing dinner with Edward even more. He looked like he was going to argue with me, so I added, "I promise I'll go to Student Health Services tomorrow if it still hurts. I'm…really hungry. And I'd rather not sit in the ER for hours."

He studied me for a minute. I held my breath. I wasn't in any shape for a battle of wills right now.

Finally, he spoke. "It's against my better judgment, but…alright. You really need to get this looked at tomorrow, though. An artist needs fully functional hands, yes?" He caught my eyes, seeking agreement. If I didn't know better, I would have described his look as almost…tender.

We were interrupted by Jacob's return. True to his word, he brought a bag of ice with him. "Here, Bella. Maybe this will help."

I silently took the ice and busied myself holding it over my tender knuckles.

He glanced at Edward and cleared his throat nervously. "I'm sorry for…what I asked just now."

"Oh really?" My tone was taunting. "Sorry about the offer or just about the way you said it?"

He had the grace to look abashed. "All of it, Bella. Just—don't be mad, okay? We've been friends for a long time." He had the pathetic look of a lost puppy, despite his enormous height.

I couldn't stop myself from feeling a little bit sorry for him. He always meant well even if his execution was spectacularly awful. "Aw, Jake. I'll get over it. But stop asking me, all right?"

"You got it. Strictly friends." He ruffled my hair and grinned. "But you don't know what you're missing." He started skipping backward away from us. "Looks like everything is under control here. Drop by the Hawk soon, eh? See you Bella. You too, Whiz Kid." He gave a small salute and jogged off down the street.

I shook my head at Jacob's cheekiness, but it wasn't really surprising. The attitude was part of his charm.

Now, standing there on the sidewalk with a bag of ice on my hand, I once again felt an arm slide around my waist and a body press into my side. This time, though, it made me feel safe, soothed, and cared for. It had something to do with the owner of the body being Edward, I was sure.

"Let's get you some food, Isabella."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Enjoy the long weekend!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Fall, everyone. Are you or the kids back to school? Your assignment: go sit on the deck with a glass of cider and enjoy reading in the September sunshine.**

**Shouvley and Project Team Beta-they rock.**

* * *

_November 6 from Edward's POV_

I almost regretted stopping by Bella's dorm the instant I arrived and saw that guy Jacob slipping an arm around her. Did she go back on her word? Was she seeing him? I felt ill, but I couldn't stop watching.

The relief when she punched him was indescribable. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath. It took me a moment to gather my wits, but when I realized she'd hurt herself, I couldn't get the door open fast enough. _ I_ wanted to help her. _ I_ was going to take care of her. Not Jacob.

When it became clear that she was really injured, the strength of my feelings took me by surprise. I wasn't just sad for her—it cast a cloud over my world. I urgently needed to fix the problem. I was willing to do anything necessary to make her feel better and protect her health. She was that precious to me.

I wished for the hundredth time that I knew how she felt. About me. About us. Sometimes I got lost in her company and forgot to worry about it. Those were the best times, the times when I felt like we were back at the beach in Charlevoix, happy to be spending the day together on some task we'd devised for ourselves. Those moments were much better than the times I thought she might only be interested in sex.

It was so ironic. I'd spent years trying to find someone else who made me feel like she did and I wasn't able to. Of course I wasn't. So I'd decided I might as well have some fun. Bad call—I ended up acting like a real manwhore. And, now, _I _was worried about whether she was just having fun with me.

I knew I had a reputation. I wasn't stupid. She read things, I was sure. But…all that was overblown and anyway, I wasn't that guy anymore. I'd never been that guy with her. I hoped she saw that. I _needed_ her to see that. She was my only way forward.

And then I heard her telling Jacob to "stop asking" her. And I heard him saying that he'd quit pestering her to be more than a friend. That dog—I knew it! To hear that he was backing off was a relief, until I remembered that I was no better than him. Regret flooded me. Why hadn't I just told her the truth? I thought about telling her right then and there but decided against it. I didn't want her to hit me, too, and injure herself further.

Yet…she'd had the chance. And she didn't hit me. She didn't get mad. She said yes. To me. She could have said yes to either of us. But she chose me.

I felt myself relax, a burden lifted. Warmth flooded my chest. There was still something there between us. I hadn't ruined it completely. There was still a chance.

* * *

_Later that night at dinner, from Bella's POV_

I eyed my right hand as it rested on the table, a bag of ice draped over top. Gripping my fork more tightly in my left, I held my breath and aimed for a steak tip. The angle was all wrong though, and I succeeded only in pushing the meat around in its pool of sauce. A huff of frustration escaped me. In five minutes, I'd managed to deliver two bites to my mouth. At this rate, the effort of eating with my non-dominant hand was burning more calories than I'd be able to take in.

Our waiter breezed up to the table. "How is the meal? Can I bring you anything?"

The fork made a loud clink as I set it down. "It tastes good, thanks. Could you bring a few more napkins? My handicap is making me messier than usual." I smiled apologetically.

"Sure thing." He wandered off in search of napkins and, no doubt, to warn the bus crew about table nineteen.

Edward cleared his throat. "Are you sure I can't help? Watching you starve while you spill good food all over yourself is not my idea of gentlemanly behavior."

I sighed. It was his third offer. I _was_ hungry, and this dinner wasn't turning out the way I had hoped anyway. Edward hadn't said a word about his ideas relating to "getting on" with our arrangement. I couldn't blame him. There was nothing sexy about me at the moment. That ship had probably sailed for the evening.

I decided I might as well have a decent meal.

"All right. If you really don't mind."

"I really don't," he said, immediately standing up and walking around to my side of the booth. "Scoot over."

I looked at him dubiously. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting next to you, of course. I'm not going to make you lean over the table like a hatchling, mouth open for food. You'll strain your back."

"Oh, of course. Wouldn't want to strain my back, too," I mocked, sliding closer to the wall. My next thought came out as a mutter. "This is so humiliating."

"I'll do my best to make it an enjoyable experience, Isabella," he said dryly.

Edward eased onto the booth seat next to me. Seeking the right angle, all the better to feed me comfortably, I suppose, he kept going until our thighs were touching. I should have been overwhelmed by the rush of energy that coursed through me. I wasn't. It just made me feel…whole. Maybe it was because I had started looking forward to the sensation, anticipating it more and more as each Sunday drew closer. I looked up and met his eyes.

"Is this okay?" he asked, glancing down at our legs.

When I nodded, it seemed to please him. He picked up my fork and speared a piece of steak tip. He brought it carefully to my mouth and waited for me to take the bite between my teeth. I closed my lips around the meat so he could slide the fork out. His eyes never left me as I chewed the food and swallowed it.

He watched attentively, waiting for the moment when he could deliver the next bite to my mouth. His gaze was gentle. I never felt self-conscious. Released from the frustration and embarrassment of trying feed myself, I realized how ravenous I was. Then, a few swallows later, I noticed he was neglecting his own plate.

"Edward, you need to eat, too."

He shook his head and spoke quietly. "I'm not hungry." He brought another forkful to my mouth.

I pressed my lips together tightly and refused the bite of food.

His voice, still quiet, encouraged me. "Let me do this for you." Then he teased my lips gently with the piece of roasted potato he had speared on the fork's tines. "Let me in," came a tiny, squeaky voice.

_Wait, what?_

I looked at him sideways. He wore a small, lopsided grin. "Are you…_voicing_ the potato?" The curve of his grin grew several degrees. He only shrugged, eyes on the vegetable.

Who was I kidding? I was hungry, and he was being really cute. I parted my lips and bit into the delicious vegetable. Edward's hand settled on the center of my back. He made warm, slow circles with his fingers as he fed me. It felt wonderful. I almost forgot the pain of my hand. I relaxed a notch, fuller in my stomach and fuller in my heart.

My feeling of contentment was soon eclipsed. With the next bite, Edward's hand slid down to grip my waist firmly. His fingers touched bare skin where my shirt had ridden up, and I took a sudden breath as another surge of energy coursed through me. This energy was different, though. Even I could tell what desire felt like. He moved his hand in a light caress and made contact with more skin. A thin pulse of fire spread along my spine and tugged under my bellybutton.

I raised my head. His eyes were already trained on me. That look of his. I felt like he could see into the very depths of my soul. He opened himself, too, when he watched like that. I knew because I saw the Edward I remembered from the summer in Charlevoix. I saw someone unguarded, playful, and who…liked me. At least, I'd thought so.

As soon as I registered how I felt, I began to dread that moment of loss that always came when I reminded myself I was just another duty to Edward, taking up his valuable time. I wasn't ready to stop feeling seen by him. I wanted to hang on as long as I could, and so, driven by some impulse I couldn't name, I took a risk.

I swallowed and kept my eyes on his as I spoke softly. "More. Please."

His breathing paused. His eyes left mine. A moment passed, my heart hammering while I waited to see how he would interpret my request. Then, at last, he came back to me. He held my gaze while he lifted his hand slightly and slipped it under my top completely, sliding it over my bare skin, searching for the spot where his fingers fit best. He felt so good—cool and smooth and _right_ against my overheated body. Finally, his hand settled into place just inside the waistband of my jeans and curled around the top of my hip bone, anchoring me to his side. "Bella…" he breathed.

I heard it echo in my head. _Bella_. He never called me that anymore. Except for that summer, it was always "Isabella," as formal as possible, making me feel the difference in our ages and experience even more sharply than I had as a kid.

Had I heard him right?

The waiter cleared his throat. I hadn't noticed him approaching. "Will you be having dessert this evening, folks?"

Edward didn't even bother to turn his face from mine. "One crème brulee. And please charge the meal to my corporate account. It's under Cullen."

"Very good, sir. I'll clear your plate if you're finished—"

"Leave it," Edward said shortly, dismissing the waiter. When we were alone again, he dropped a piece of bread onto my plate and pushed it around, soaking up sauce. I was mesmerized watching his fingers lift the dripping bread and shake it gently before bringing it to my mouth. As I took a bite, a drip escaped, landing on my lower lip and dribbling toward my chin. I raised my hand to wipe up the sauce, but Edward beat me to it. He ran his finger gently up my skin to collect the gravy and then held it in front of me.

"Open, Isabella," he prompted me. I held my breath as he slipped his finger between my lips. I met it with my tongue and sucked gently to clean off the sauce. I could feel his other hand tighten against my side. It took effort to release his finger.

When I finally did, Edward's whole body slumped back against the seat. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. When he spoke, it was in a rough voice. "Was your dinner enjoyable?"

I waited a moment to be sure of my own voice. "Very. Thanks for your help."

"Oh, it was my pleasure."

We sat quietly for a minute. Then my mind drifted to Edward's promise last week about the conversation topic for dinner. "Weren't we supposed to have a discussion tonight? About the plans for… getting on with it."

He sat up, loosened his grip on my hip, opened his eyes, and looked at me. But he wasn't _looking_ at me anymore. "I thought you might want to skip that, because of your hand."

"Maybe it will help take my mind off things." And help keep it on other things.

"Your dessert, folks," said the waiter, with his remarkable talent for sneaking up and interrupting us. "And the check. I'll…collect it when you're finished. Enjoy your evening." He retreated immediately under Edward's scowl. I hoped that would be the last interruption.

I glanced at Edward, who was now frowning at the table, organizing his thoughts. Then he looked up at me sideways from under his brow. "I've been giving some consideration to your…level of experience. As you point out, it's not extensive."

"Actually, maybe I _don't_ want to talk about this right now."

"Let me finish. All I'm saying is that there's no need to rush." He leaned closer. "Let's take our time." His nose skimmed along my jaw. "And move slowly." He pressed his lips just under my ear. "Get comfortable step by small step." He nuzzled my earlobe. "Then, when you're ready, we can put it all together into a—" he interrupted himself to swallow "—mind-blowing evening." He was silent, not even breathing. Then he whispered in my ear, "What do you think?"

I could feel my pulse pound. My body craved more of his touch even though he was right there, pressed against me. "That sounds…like a plan," I squeaked out.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, let me feed you dessert."


	15. Chapter 15

**Happy Friday, dear readers.**

**I deeply appreciate the support from Shouvley and Kitchmill at Project Team Beta. They really help my confidence.**

* * *

_Monday morning, November 7_

I rolled over in bed and stretched. It felt so nice to sleep in for once, since I didn't have a chance of making it through sculpture and welding class with my injured hand. Maybe I would just spend the day catching up on sleep.

My phone chimed with a text.

**Cullen, Edward: How's your hand?**

I stared at my swollen right hand for a moment. This was going to be a slow conversation.

**Swan, Bella: Better. Only hurts when I move it.**

Okay, maybe it hurt all the time, but I didn't have to tell him that.

**Cullen, Edward: Do you need a ride to the doctor?**

**Swan, Bella: Not going.**

I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. My phone chimed again. I attempted to ignore it, but I was sure the text was from Edward. My desire to read his words was irresistible.

**Cullen, Edward: You promised. Think of your art career…**

I smiled. Why did arguing with him feel like fun?

**Swan, Bella: The wait will be int- **

**Swan, Bella: Interm- **

**Swan, Bella: Long.**

**Cullen, Edward: You promised to go. Do I need to come over there?**

I wanted to say yes, but it seemed wrong to interrupt his workday.

**Swan, Bella: No... **

**Swan, Bella: I can walk. **

**Cullen, Edward: You're doing the right thing.**

Five simple words made me smile like a loon.

**Swan, Bella: Yeah, yeah…**

* * *

Three hours later, I was sitting in the dingy waiting room at the student clinic, listening to my stomach growl. I had considered stepping out to get an overpriced snack from the vending area down the hall. I couldn't bring myself to do it, though, because I was certain my name would be called the moment my feet hit the institutional-beige waxed tile of the corridor. I didn't want to risk increasing the ass-numbing wait by even one millisecond.

I'd finished the reading assignments I brought along, so I scanned the room looking for a new diversion. My eyes lit upon a large fishbowl perched on the information table, filled with colorful condoms. A small grin crossed my face with the realization that, for the first time, I would have a need for them. Soon.

That thought led me to wonder what Edward was anticipating when he talked about taking our time. Three weeks? Six weeks? Six months? I had no idea, but "step by step" sounded like at least another month to me. He had already spent so much time helping me with this. How long did he really want to invest in our no-strings arrangement, anyway? Didn't that much time start constituting a string?

Then, with a jolt, I realized a day would come when our Sunday afternoons would come to an end. We would complete the deal, so to speak, and that would be it. He might want to see me from time to time for…a hookup, I guess. But our regular get-togethers—this "project" of getting comfortable with each other—would be a thing of the past.

I started to feel like I couldn't catch my breath. My stomach churned, and I scanned the room for a wastebasket, just in case. That's when I realized that, despite my best efforts, I had feelings for Edward Cullen.

My phone chimed.

**Cullen, Edward: Well? Broken?**

I clung to the small, solid device, took a few deep breaths, and reminded myself that I was living in the present. Not that future time when Edward and I were relative strangers again, but today, when he seemed to care about my well-being. Today, when he was sweetly sending me texts to make sure I was okay. It took me forever to type my response, but getting to text with Edward made the pain worthwhile.

**Swan, Bella: Still waiting. Homework finished. Ideas for passing the time?**

**Cullen, Edward: Think about how we'll spend our next day together. Sunday?**

A flash of heat crept over my skin and helped ease the panic I'd been feeling moments ago. My lips settled into a small smile. A week ago, I would have been nervous about my ability to be an interesting companion to him. But that was before last night. Before I found out that I could get him to respond to me, at least a little bit. Today, I gathered my courage and put my flirt on.

**Swan, Bella: Beat you to it. The giant fishbowl of condoms in the waiting room made me think of you.**

A moment passed. Then another.

**Cullen, Edward: Taking our time. Remember?**

Jeez. Why didn't he use a frowning face, too, to signal his disapproval even more thoroughly? Where did sexy Edward go? I still had more innuendo to use up.

**Swan, Bella: I remember. And I'm looking forward to each and every little step. **

"Miss Swan? The doctor can see you now." Rats. I fired off a quick message letting Edward know it was my turn and followed the nurse back to the exam room.

* * *

"Texting with this brace on sucks," I grumbled under my breath as I trudged back to the dorm. It was a weird glove-like thing that kept me from moving my wrist and all but the ends of my fingers. A moment ago, trying to let Edward know my hand was sprained, I'd been forced to sit down on the curb and type one-thumbed with the phone on my knee. After that, I'd decided to make old-fashioned phone calls to my mom and Angela.

I was in the middle of speaking with Angie, who was going to let our one shared professor know about my temporary handicap, when a sleek, charcoal-colored car pulled up alongside me. Edward hopped out.

"Hang on a second, Ang…" I lowered my phone to my chest. "Edward! What are you doing here?"

He stood in front of me, at the ready. "You're hurt. I'm here to help."

"But it's Monday. Don't you have to be at work?"

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. "I set my own schedule. It's a perk of being the boss."

I just stood there, drinking him in. Edward was here, with me, on a day that wasn't Sunday.

He raised his eyebrows and gestured to my phone.

"Oh! Sorry, Angela," I said, putting the phone back to my ear. "Thanks for helping out. I'll see you this afternoon."

Edward shook his head back and forth meaningfully.

"Or maybe not? I might, uh…hang out at a friend's house. You know, more restful than the dorm."

Angela's voice kicked up a notch. Edward could probably hear it through the phone. "What friend, Bella? Did I hear you say Edward? Who's that? Is he your—"

"Gotta go, Angie! Thanks!" I ended the call.

He looked at me strangely. "Are you hiding me from your roommate?"

"Uh…well, she knows about the arrangement. But I haven't told her any details. Or your name." I didn't mind telling him this. I thought he would be impressed with my ability to be discreet.

"Why would you do that, Isabella? What do you wa–" He stopped himself and took a deliberate breath.

I couldn't identify the emotion I'd heard in his voice, but I felt like I'd done something to upset him. His furrowed brow made me uneasy.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Isn't it a basic safety rule for women to let someone know when they're going to be alone with a new guy?" he demanded.

"You aren't a stranger," I pointed out. "Our grandmothers were best friends. Our folks have been exchanging annual holiday letters since…since holiday letters were invented." This was confusing. I thought he would be pleased if I made a point of not acting like I was his girlfriend. "Besides, it could hurt your reputation or your career or something if word got out about what we're doing."

He looked surprised, then amused, then rueful. And, then, he wore The Look again. I'd seen it just last night, but repeated exposure didn't seem to take away its power to make my heart race. I wanted to know what he saw when he peered into my soul.

"Well," he said lightly after a moment. "Like you pointed out, your dad knows where to find me. Now, allow me to help you convalesce comfortably." He held out an arm, bent at the elbow. "This way to the car."

* * *

The sound of rain on the roof was the first thing I noticed as I gradually awoke from my nap. I felt warm. I was lying on a comfortable piece of furniture. I couldn't remember where I was. Then I heard clicking on a keyboard and remembered: Edward's house. I realized my hand didn't hurt. I'd expected it to. Curiosity made me open my eyes, finally, to take in my surroundings. I was on his couch, covered by a soft comforter. My arm and hand were propped up on pillows. The gray light of a rainy fall afternoon seeped in the windows. I had a nice view of the thinning yellow and red maple leaves that still clung to the trees across the street. I smelled bergamot.

"You're awake."

I turned my head to find Edward, sitting in a brown leather club chair to my left, peering at me over the top of his laptop screen. I nodded my head and yawned.

"How do you feel?"

"Really good for someone with a sprained hand. Did I sleep long?"

"Three hours." His eyes held amusement. "It must be hard work healing cartilage." He put down the laptop and poured steaming liquid from a pot on the table into a mug.

"Your couch is so comfortable. I feel like I'm floating." I shifted more upright in my nest of pillows and blanket. He handed me a cup of the tea and sat down near my feet on the end of the sofa.

"That it is," he agreed. "I've fallen asleep on it more than once, trying to work too late."

I thought of Edward, alone in his house, trying to debug code used by millions of people around the world. The image seemed lonely. "It's a huge responsibility you have."

"Yeah. I enjoy the work. The people depending on me for a paycheck, though—that responsibility keeps me up occasionally. Sometimes I miss the old days when it was just me and Rosalie and Emmett, sitting in our dorm room, trying to change the world of search."

"Emmett and Rosalie? Most of the articles I've read only talk about you."

"That is because they are smarter than me."

It wasn't what I expected him to say. "What do you mean? Smarter how? You wrote the original code with Emmett, right? Did he invent more of it or something?"

He shifted slightly. "No. We're all equal business partners. Best friends, too. I mean that they were smart enough to realize they didn't want their personal lives splashed all over the media." The words were spoken with an affected casualness, like he was working to appear calm. "Emmett was my roommate in college and Rosalie is his girlfriend. Fiancée, now. When Oodles started taking off, they dodged scrutiny on themselves and their relationship by staying behind the scenes. They were happy to let me do all the interviews and promotion. They just wanted to focus on building the company. I didn't understand until later."

"So Oodles is not just you?" I found this fact strangely relieving. Edward wasn't doing this all by himself. It made him seem more human. I was glad he had support.

But he was not at ease. He looked down at the floor and ran a hand back and forth over his hair. "No. Unfortunately, I was…perfectly happy to be the public face of the company. I'm embarrassed to admit it now, but I liked the glory and the attention. My ego got a little out of control."

"You deserve to be proud of what you've accomplished. It's pretty amazing."

"I know. But there's a difference between being proud and being an asshole." He raised his eyes to mine. "I was not…a good person, for a while."

I kept my eyes on his and remained still. I didn't want to break the mood of the moment. It felt like he was telling me something important. But he didn't continue. Was he waiting for my reaction?

"You're kind to me. Considerate. The fact that I'm sitting here on your couch at all…it's because you're being generous."

I'd meant my words to help, but they seemed to make him more uncomfortable. "I hope you know I care about you, Isabella." He said this very quietly.

I felt myself growing warm. A smile crept across my heart and maybe my face too, but I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't sure how he meant it. I didn't want to guess wrong and embarrass myself. His glance became too much for me, so I looked down, flustered.

After a moment, he went on. "The thing about being a public figure is that people treat you differently. They're either too familiar or too distant. Sometimes they want you to like them too much. Sometimes they want to give you a beatdown. People aren't really interested in _you_. It's their _idea_ of you or what you can do for them that drives things. Ironically, the more the public knows, the more isolated you become." He seemed pained as he explained this to me. 'It's rare for me to meet people I can have normal friendships with. That's one of the reasons I enjoy spending time with you." He looked at me guardedly.

My first thought was incredulous_: this is normal?_ My second one was giddy: _he likes being with me_! The knowledge helped soothe the ache that struck me earlier at the doctor. Maybe there was more between us than just our arrangement. Maybe he thought of me as a friend. Maybe this time I could turn it into something more. Maybe. I smiled. "What do you _normally_ do on Monday evenings, Edward?"

He leaned back and pursed his lips. "These days? If I'm not working late, I cook a good dinner. Then I try to do something with my hands, like work on the house or a piece of furniture."

"Really? What do you mean? Like that show 'This Old House'?"

"Yeah." He looked at me shyly. "Is that surprising? You and I built some stuff together in Charlevoix. Remember?"

I nodded. I remembered everything about that summer. I just hadn't expected him to.

"It gave me a taste for working with my hands. I restored some of this place myself. You should have seen it when I bought it. The only thing that saved it from the wrecking ball was its historical status. Now that it's finished, I've been trying to do cabinets, dressers, stuff like that."

"That's really great. I…didn't know that about you."

He shrugged and picked at a loose thread on the comforter. "So much of what gets reported by the media is misleading, particularly profile pieces." His eyes met mine again, hesitantly. "Lately, I've been trying to maintain some privacy, have stuff going on in my life that no one but close friends know about. It's better for me."

I felt a tug in my heart, like I wanted to reassure him, support his choice. He seemed so shy about telling me this, so uncertain. It wasn't the Edward I was used to. "Well, let's have a normal evening, then." I held up my arm with the brace. "I may not be able to participate much, but maybe we could cook. Then you could show me your latest project."

His trademark lopsided grin spread slowly across his face. "I'd like that."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I sat perched on Edward's kitchen counter while he chopped ingredients for my favorite Korean dish, japchae. He slid aside the piles of chopped onion and zucchini and started to peel a carrot while the bean thread noodles boiled and the beef simmered in its yummy sauce.

"I can't believe you know how to make this! I always order it when I go for Korean. It never occurred to me to make it at home."

"A couple of ingredients were tricky to find," Edward explained. "But after I worked out that part, locating a good recipe online was simple."

"Oh, right. With a certain search engine all the kids are using these days."

"Exactly." He grinned. "Now, pay attention so you can do this next time."

* * *

"Mmmmmm," I groaned as I slurped up the last bit from the fork Edward held to my lips. "_So_ good."

He laughed at my enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it. But, really, it was pretty easy."

"Sure, for you, with your kitchen and your ingredients and your functional right hand. It would be tricky to do this in the dorm. I miss cooking."

"You did a lot of it at home?"

I nodded. "Charlie doesn't cook. After my grandma died, it was pretty much up to me to feed us."

There was a contemplative pause. It wasn't awkward. Somehow in the last several hours, I'd regained the sense of comfort I used to feel around Edward.

"That's kind of how I leaned computer code. Finding stuff online was so cumbersome and annoying that I wrote little programs to do it better. It was just a game for a while—Emmett and I started competing to see who could solve a problem in the flashiest way. Eventually, though, we stopped being idiots and realized we could build something cool together."

"How does Rosalie fit in? Does she code, too?"

"No, that wasn't her thing. She and Em had just started dating around the time we finished the program that became Oodles. I have no idea where he found the courage to ask her out. She was gorgeous and ice-cold until I got to know her. She's also scary smart and studied entrepreneurship. One day, she told us we should—quote—stop dicking around like college kids and go into business already—unquote. We probably would have sold our code to Microsoft or somebody if it hadn't been for her. Instead, we quit school and started Oodles."

* * *

"Leave the dishes," Edward told me as we stood up from the table.

"I want to help. You've done everything," I protested.

"It's fine, Isabella. You can help some other night, when your hand is healed."

"Okay, deal." My cheeks flushed with pleasure at the thought of doing this again. I loved the feeling of making plans, the idea that my future contained more time with Edward.

He took my good hand. "Come on. The workshop is this way."

We exited the kitchen onto a flagstone patio and followed a winding path across the yard to an ancient-looking outbuilding. I'd call it a barn except that implies a size this building didn't have. Judging from the age of the house, this had probably been a stable housing the horses used for transportation back before automobiles were mainstream.

Edward slid back a heavy door and turned on a light. I blinked. We were standing in a full-on furniture shop, like the ones you see on HGTV shows. Drawers and cabinets stood here and there around the space in various stages of completion.

It was all so unexpected, I almost didn't have words. "This is great, Edward." My comment sounded lame, even to my ears.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I…really like building things."

"Yeah, I'm getting it now. I can't believe you did all this yourself. When do you find time?"

He shrugged. "I don't go out much these days. And at night, when I can't sleep, I come out here and work for a few hours. It's very soothing."

"I think I know what you mean. Once I have a piece of jewelry designed, and I start building it, I can relax. I like feeling the motion of my hands while I craft it. It's a little bit like meditating." The words came out tentatively. I hadn't spoken this thought out loud before.

Edward met my eyes. "Exactly. It's that way for me, too." He was silent for a moment, weighing something. "Want to look around?" When I nodded, he waved his hand toward the vast work table. "Go ahead."

I wandered through the room, trailing my hands over Edward's creations as I went. An intricate woodcarving, half finished, decorated the back of an elegant bench. A mission-style book cabinet waited for its glass panes to be fit into place. Placed at the center of the workbench were pieces for a small tabletop cabinet, waiting to be assembled.

"What's that project?"

"A jewelry cabinet. I'm making it on commission."

"You sell this stuff?"

He cracked a smile. "You've seen my house. Where would I put it?"

I grinned back. "I just…haven't heard about this hobby of yours before. You're so good at it. Obviously." I glanced at all the evidence surrounding us. "Your work is beautiful."

He looked really grateful for my compliment. "Thank you." His words seemed to mean more than just a polite expression of gratitude. I noticed there was less space between our bodies than there was a moment ago. "It feels really good to be keeping a few aspects of my life private. Just for my own enjoyment, you know?"

I nodded my head in agreement. I did know. Creative pursuits could be intensely private experiences. "You need to be able to hear your own voice."

"Yes." He spoke softly, but I could hear him very clearly. He was really close now. Was I doing that or was he?

I swallowed and tried not to be distracted by his proximity. "So, how is it going, working to an order? Is it hard?"

"Not this time. It's for a relative. I know what she likes. I probably wouldn't take a commission otherwise." He eyed me for a moment, and then we were even closer. "Actually, I was hoping you would show me _your_ work sometime. I need some jewelry pieces to figure out shelf and hook placement and, in any case, I've been wanting to see what you do."

I blushed and took a step back. "Mmm, maybe some other time…I only have my sketchbook with me anyway. I'm not feeling so great about the last couple of ideas in there." What were the odds he would be able to tell one of the pieces was inspired by him? And then understanding struck me. The cuff I'd designed, the struggle of the last story which had nothing to do with Edward. It had everything to do with him. I just hadn't been letting myself see.

"Come on, Isabella. I showed you mine. Now you show me yours."

"I will." Or maybe I wouldn't, since it would be totally embarrassing and destroy this tiny little bit of budding maybe-relationship we have. "I just…I want you to see something you can hold in your hand and respond to. Please?"

His brow furrowed. He looked down. "It's fine, Isabella. I didn't mean to pressure you. I've just been hoping to see that side of you for a while now. Sorry to come on too strong."

"It's okay. I've been stuck for a while and then my hand"—I held it up for emphasis—"you know. It's making me touchy."

"And now I'm doubly sorry. I wanted today to be relaxing for you, but I've caused you worry." He thought for a moment. "Come on." He took my hand again, turned off the lights, and led me back to the house where we returned to the living room with its fabulously comfortable couch. Edward arranged some pillows on the floor and turned to me. "_Lord of the Rings_ or _The Princess Bride_?"

"Excuse me?"

"We're going to watch a movie while I massage your shoulders. You've got to be sore from using your left arm. Would you like to watch _Lord of the Rings_ or _The Princess Bride_?"

"Uh…_Princess Bride_. I can't stay awake for—what is it? Four hours?"

He shook his head in mock dismay. "I keep explaining to people: quality storytelling cannot be rushed. Sit down, please."

Edward started up the movie and flicked off the lights all at once with some sort of handheld controller. Then he positioned himself carefully behind me and rested his hands lightly on my shoulders. As the opening credits rolled, he began to knead my shoulders. It felt wonderful. When he paused to sweep my hair aside, his fingers brushed my neck softly. I couldn't help the sigh that slipped out with the contact. He paused. His fingers worked their way inside my collar, pressing into the tops of my shoulders, seeking knots to release.

"How does that feel?"

The meal plus the painkillers plus the massage made me feel really relaxed, verging on sleepy, so it took a moment to answer. "Really good."

"Are you more comfortable with my fingers on your skin or off?"

"On. Definitely on." Oops. What happened to my filter? Apparently his plan was working, and I was getting more comfortable with him.

"Isabella," he started. "I want you to know I didn't plan any activities for tonight pertaining to our arrangement. You should rest and heal..."

My breathing stopped. What was with Edward always acting like he needed to be the voice of reason? Before he could continue and make me feel pathetic and awkward again, I interrupted him.

"I was just trying to be open with you, like you said. I feel—I don't know— more _well_ when your skin touches mine." It was work to keep the dejected tone out of my voice. "I wasn't trying to…pressure you or anything."

He let out a huff of breath and was quiet for a minute. Then his hand smoothed a tendril of hair off my neck. "Please, don't be tense. I…I didn't get to finish. I was going to say that I could do a better job with the shoulder rub if you don't mind taking your sweater off. It feels like you have a camisole on under here."

"Oh." My cheeks heated up. Figuring that the less I talked, the better, I simply started unbuttoning my sweater. "I think I'll need help with this sleeve. It doesn't fit over the brace. Any ideas?"

He peered at my arm for a moment. "Just leave the sweater on that arm and wrap the rest of the material around the brace. You'll want to put it back on when we're done anyway."

I snorted and spoke without thinking again. "Well, that will look especially sexy." When my brain caught up with my mouth, I wanted to sink through the floor. He'd made it pretty clear that discussion of sex was off-topic for the evening.

I squirmed uncomfortably. Edward was silent.

I mentally chastised myself. What was wrong with me? This morning, I'd nearly had a panic attack at the thought of Edward being gone from my life. Now, I was ruining the relaxed, warm vibe of our afternoon with my bawdy commentary.

But, wasn't that supposed to be why we were here, together, in his house? Sex? That's what I'd signed up for. Yet, I couldn't help feeling more and hoping that he did, too.

I feared that things would get ugly if I kept up with this line of thinking. So I decided to think about it later and just enjoy being with him in the time I had. For now, Edward's hands were still moving, soothing my muscles and the ache in my heart.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to shouvley and starpower31 for their Beta awesomeness. They are full of sage advice and grammar expertise. For instance, did you know that "V-card" should be hyphenated? Now you do.**

* * *

November 12

I opened the door to Alice's store and stopped short. A tall, statuesque, and slightly saggy-stomached redhead stood in the middle of the store, wearing nothing but lingerie.

She turned from surveying herself in the mirror and addressed me. "Well? What do you think?"

"I…uh…"

"Tanya, be nice," chided Alice as she emerged from the back with a stack of clothes draped across her arm. "Here—you should find something you like in this pile. And, again, please stay in a dressing room when you're trying on the lingerie."

Alice walked toward me, her arms open for a hug. "Bella! I was just getting ready to track you down. Don't stay away so long next time."

I held up my brace. "I'm out of commission for a little while."

"What happened?! Will your hand be okay?" Her brows pinched together in worry.

"It should be fine. I just got mad at a friend who kept…propositioning me, I guess, and I punched him."

"Wait, not your friend-with-benefits?"

"No, it was a different guy."

Alice looked surprised for a moment, mouth slightly open. Then a grin spread across her face. "I knew you had it going on, but—wow."

"Alice…" I looked down in discomfort.

"Speaking of, how are things with your paramour?"

"Alice!" I looked meaningfully at her, then Tanya, then her again. Tanya had retreated to the dressing area, but the curtain to her cubicle stood wide open as she stepped into a garment.

"What?"

"Don't hush up on my account," Tanya said. "I need some vicarious romance. This motherhood gig is killing me."

I folded my arms across my chest and scowled in irritation at Alice. Then I turned to Tanya. "Seriously? You want to hear about this?"

She nodded, a look of interest on her face. "Please."

"Fine," I said, resigned. "I can't believe I'm talking about this in front of a perfect stranger." I turned back toward Alice. "No sex yet. It's taking a while to get comfortable with each other."

Tanya, now wearing a skirt and a push-up bra, took a step forward. "You're seeing a guy for sex, except you haven't had sex yet? How does that work?"

I shrugged, a tad defensively. "We're getting there."

She gave me an amused look. "Goody. How long has this little dance of romance been going on?"

I mentally calculated. "Well, I met him four years ago. But the current arrangement is only a month old."

She looked at me dubiously. "A month? You know that's not usually how these things go, right?"

I sighed and tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "Yeah, I suspected." _Did she mean I was doing it wrong? Hooking up incorrectly? Why was I telling her this? She wasn't even dressed. _

I was searching for a way to end the conversation when Alice started walking Tanya back toward the dressing rooms and filling her in on the whole thing. How Bella had sworn off dating—which was too bad because Alice knew someone who would be just perfect—how Alice had suggested no-strings sex to fill in the gaps, so to speak, and how Bella had it "going on" because she'd found a candidate almost immediately. I was getting a little irked at her monologue since I was _right there_ when, suddenly, she stopped and turned to me.

"You know, Bella, you never told me how you met this guy."

I sighed and focused on trying to be brief since I didn't know how to stop the runaway train this conversation had become. "He's an old family friend I kept running into. He kind of insisted that I do it with him if I was going to do it at all."

Tanya had been listening to all this with rapt attention. "So, what's the holdup, then?"

I felt defensive again. It's not like it was my fault. "He just wants me to be comfortable with him first."

"It was his idea to wait?"

"Yeah."

She fixed me with a motherly look. "Bella—I _can_ call you Bella, right?"

I nodded.

"Bella, I know a thing or two about relationships. I wasn't always a married mother of four. And here's the thing. What you are describing is _not_ no-strings sex. That boy is in love with you. Or at least thinking he might want to get there. Now, is that good news to you, or bad news?"

I just looked at her, unable to process fast enough. She could have been completely naked now, and I wouldn't have noticed. "Uh. I don't know. Why do you think he's in—" I couldn't say the word.

"—love with you? Because if he was only interested in sex, it would have happened by now. He's clearly invested in your emotional well-being. And that's love."

"Oh, Bella." Alice looked at me sorrowfully. "I'm so _sorry_ about this."

"Huh?" said Tanya. "What are you sorry about?"

"Well," defended Alice. "Bella didn't want to get involved with anyone. I suggested trying out some extracurricular activity, and now it's backfired!"

"It's okay, Alice," I said.

"You're trying to be nice, Bella, and I appreciate it, but I shouldn't have pushed you."

"No, really. Because, I think…" I trailed off.

"What?"

"I think I might have feelings for him." It was the first time I'd said it out loud.

Alice narrowed her eyes. "What kind of feelings?"

I hunched my shoulders and twisted my face into a grimace. "The thought of not seeing him anymore? It makes me really sad. I love to hang out with him."

Tanya grinned at me from her station by the mirror as she adjusted her breasts into a tight-fitting top. "Ah-ha! You've got the bug, too."

Alice threw a brief, irritated glance at Tanya and held up a hand in her direction. "Look, I'm relieved you're not mad. But are you sure about this?"

"Not about the sex. That's coming up soon, I think. I'm terrified about that. But, yes, I am sure about how I feel. I want more of him than meeting every-now-and-again for a hookup. I kind of want to be with him all the time."

"Hold the phone," Tanya called, looking at me in the mirror as she adjusted a bra strap. "I'm sensing this is a first-time thing for you. You wouldn't happen to be a virgin, would you?"

I blushed. It was all the answer she needed.

"I knew it. Can I call them, or what?" She did a little dance where she stood.

Alice put a hand to her mouth and sat down, hard, on one of the upholstered waiting chairs. "I've done it again." Whatever she'd done, she didn't look happy about it. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, they were glistening. "Bella, I didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That you'd never...you know. I wouldn't have suggested it if I had known." She looked devastated.

"Alice, I'm not mad. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm fine."

Tanya, fully dressed for a change, walked up to me. "Not true. You said a moment ago that you were terrified about giving up your V-card."

Alice moaned quietly. "Crap. This is all my fault."

Tanya just laughed. "Everything will be fine. He'll make it good because he loves you. You'll see. Now, I think this occasion calls for a gift. Alice, bring out some lingerie sets for Bella to try on. It's on me. A girl can't go to the ball without a special look."

I gaped at this sexy, confident, and totally crazy woman standing before me. "Thanks, but that's really not necessary…"

"Honey, don't worry about it—I'm loaded. Consider it fair payment for sharing your story with a perfect stranger."

And, before I could fully register it, I was standing in front of a mirror in the loveliest set of underwear I'd ever seen. Then another set, even lovelier. Then a third set.

"She'll take them all," Tanya told Alice, "and throw in some extra panties. The sexier, the better. You only lose your virginity once, you know."

Alice, somewhat revived by getting on with business, rolled her eyes. "All right, Tanya. We get it. You're the wise, sexy, generous fairy godmother. But could you tone it down before Bella runs screaming out of here?"

Tanya peered at me and then shrugged. "She looks fine to me. Bella, how are you feeling?"

"A little more confident than before, I guess."

"Good! That's exactly what you'll need to take this to the next level."

My budding confidence froze on the vine as I wondered what she could mean.

"I mean, out of sex-friends territory and into dating."

Oh, right.

"If that's what you want, Bella," chimed Alice, while she wrapped up underwear at the counter. I smiled at the irony. Now Alice was all about championing what I wanted.

"It _is_ what she wants," retorted Tanya. "That's obvious."

While the two of them bickered, I took a moment to wonder how I had gotten to this place. I had been so certain my feelings for Edward were not mutual. But when I thought of our interactions from this new perspective, it seemed like Tanya had a point. What's more, I wanted her to be right. Then I wouldn't be doomed to painful heartbreak when we finally did the deed. Edward Sundays wouldn't have to be over.

"Thanks again, Bella. It has been delightful making your acquaintance." Tanya was standing next to me, shopping bags in hand. She handed one to me and put her free arm around my shoulders for a hug. "Best of luck to you. Maybe Alice can fill me in on the details sometime, if you don't mind?"

I smiled. "Sure. Thank you, Tanya. It's been an eye-opening afternoon."

"Glad I could help. Here's hoping you experience the opening of some other body parts real soon." She sailed out the door but turned to wink at me before she disappeared out of sight.

I turned to stare at Alice. "Are all your customers like that?"

She shook her head. "Tanya is one of a kind. I hope she wasn't too much."

Now it was my turn to shake my head. "No. It was okay." I felt strangely optimistic. Maybe things could work out. I wasn't sure how yet, but I knew I would regret it if I didn't try.

* * *

_A short while later_…

I found myself sitting on a bench along the Diag, chewing on a sandwich from Amer's Deli, my lingerie in a beautiful bag at my feet. It was sunny and mild and probably the last nice day before winter. The stone of the ancient seat was warm from the sunshine. I relaxed a bit more and leaned back, letting the warm rock do its work on my tight muscles. My mind was whirling, still stunned from my encounter with Tanya. The smoked turkey on rye wasn't helping as much as I'd hoped.

I couldn't stop thinking about Tanya's conviction when she said Edward might have real feelings for me. She sounded so sure, like she'd just overheard him confess his interest. I'd believed her while I'd been at Alice's, but now I was wondering if she'd misread the situation.

A group of guys walked by, talking loudly and shoving each other good-naturedly as they went. _Boys—sheesh. _I recognized one of them from a party at Jacob's place back in September. Paul, I think his name was. He'd asked for my phone number, but he never called. It was fine; I'd regretted giving it to him once he gotten into a wrestling match in the middle of Jake's living room. Any hint of attractiveness disappeared once I'd seen him rolling around on the floor with his buddy like they were a couple of helpless puppies.

Did Edward ever do stuff like that? I couldn't imagine it. He always seemed focused on something. Puzzles, computers, our agreement—whatever it was, he paid attention and things went his way. This was why he was successful, probably. I wanted to know how he did it. I could have used some of that superpower.

I wrapped up the remainder of my sandwich and closed my eyes, turning my face toward the light. The sun felt nice. Maybe some vitamin D would set my mind at ease.

A noise from the right drew my attention. "Mmmm." I glanced over my shoulder and saw a couple sunning themselves on a blanket. They were clothed, but it didn't seem to be interfering with the heavy make out session in progress. I stifled the urge to yell "Get a room!" After all, I didn't know them. Maybe they had a good reason, like roommates or…no. Probably they were just in the mood.

_Tanya didn't know Edward. I did, somewhat. If Edward had feelings for me, he would be trying to date me, and he wasn't._

My eyes strayed back to the couple on the lawn. To my surprise, she had stopped straddling him, and they were both sitting up. He was holding her face, caressing her skin with his thumbs. Then he placed a reverent kiss on each cheek. Huh. They actually looked really sweet now. In love, maybe.

I suddenly realized I was staring.

I shut my eyes quickly and felt my cheeks flush. Not from the sunshine, but no one else needed to know that. Envy was not a flattering emotion. I wondered what it would feel like to be in her shoes, to be loved by someone. To feel that kind of emotion and tenderness focused on me.

The look Edward gave me sometimes. Maybe it would be sort of like that. That look where he saw right into me. I still didn't know what that look meant, but it felt kind of…intimate when he looked at me that way. The thought was exciting and comforting and unsettling all at once. I loved how that look made me feel, but I hated the hope that flooded me when I thought of it because it most likely didn't mean anything.

I made myself open my eyes, and then I almost rolled them at myself. Damn that Tanya. She had me thinking about it now. Thinking that it was possible.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't completely nuts to suggest Edward could—I don't know—develop an interest in more than just hooking up with me. He _had_ said he liked to spend time with me.

But, I didn't know how to make that happen. He was so much more interesting than me. He had so much more experience at life, at work, and at everything. What could I possibly have to offer him?

_I am more than just a familiar face_. Somewhere deep inside, my innate sense of self knew this to be the truth. But it was hard to believe it when I was around Edward. I felt like he saw mostly my youth and inexperience which made me someone safe to him. I wasn't even sure he realized I was a grown woman, aged twenty. Despite the fact that we were going to be doing, like, the most adult thing possible.

My phone rang, startling me. I looked at the caller ID. "Hi, Mom."

"How are you, baby? I miss you."

The sound of her voice jarred something loose, and moisture started collecting in the corners of my eyes. I did my best to speak normally. "Fine. How are you?"

"Bella? Is something wrong?"

A tear broke loose and trailed down my cheek. I wiped it away impatiently. "Um, no. Not really."

"Honey." I could hear the loving reproach in her voice. "I'm your mom. I can tell when something is upsetting you. Now, what's happening? Are you having problems in school? With friends? Is it a guy?"

I longed for her to hug me tight while I poured out my tale of woe and wished she could tell me how to fix the problem. But I wasn't six anymore, and I didn't see how I could share much with her anyway. I decided to reveal what little I could and hope it was enough so that she could help me feel better.

My nose was completely stuffed up now, my voice heavy with tears. "It's a guy."

"Okay. What happened?"

"He—he doesn't _see_ me most of the time, Mom."

"Well, you can't expect the guy to do all the work these days. Maybe you should ask him out. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

I rolled my eyes, even as tears leaked down my face. Right. This was why my memories of Reneé solving my problems came from when I was six. "No, I mean, we know each other. We hang out. But I care about him, and I don't think he sees me as anything more than…a casual friend."

She hummed for a moment while she thought. "You know, honey, I think I'm going to stick with my first impulse. Sometimes you need to take the lead with men. They're not mind readers." I dug in my bag for a tissue as she spoke. "If he's not seeing you, Bella, then _make_ him. The worst thing that can happen is that he'll say 'no thanks.'"

I paused, wondering. _Could I _make_ Edward do something?_ It had never occurred to me to try. He had always taken the lead, which seemed natural because he was older and more experienced.

"Bella? Are you there?"

"Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking."

I tried to listen as my mom launched into a story about shopping for a new car, but movement caught my eye. The PDA-lovers came into view as they headed off toward State Street, fingers intertwined. She was almost as tall as he was. Her hair bounced around her shoulders as she laughed at something he'd said. His eyes stayed on her face, even after she looked away. Even as they walked. They were a pair, it was obvious. Together.

_Maybe that was the key to making Edward see me,_ I thought as I half-listened to my phone. I wasn't fifteen anymore, and once we started being together _that_ way, he'd have to realize. I was grown. I had things to offer. I could be the other half of his pair.

* * *

_Edward's POV, Saturday_

I glanced at the clock again. 4pm. _Maybe I should order some dinner. _

I wouldn't be leaving the office until the code was fixed, tested, and running on the public servers. I didn't care if it took all night. Tomorrow would be Sunday, and I planned to spend the afternoon with Bella, no matter what.

Having her at my house earlier in the week had given me a taste of what it could be like for us. I loved having her there with me. She had been relaxed and at ease and so beautiful. I wanted her to be comfortable all the time. I wanted to take care of her and make her happy. I wanted to touch her constantly.

_Careful, Cullen._ I took a deep breath and shook my head. It was a ridiculously fine line I was walking.

I felt almost insane with want for her. To kiss her slowly and thoroughly, to map out every square inch of her skin with my fingers, to show her my love in the most ancient, physical way—these were the things I craved. Since sex was ostensibly the reason we hung out, no problem, right?

Wrong. It's kind of an asshole move to sleep with someone you love while pretending that it's meaningless sex. I'd done enough to Bella. I didn't want to add that to my list of transgressions.

The more time we spent together, the harder it was to continue with my ruse. It had been on the tip of my tongue to tell her, sitting there on my couch Monday. But I couldn't decide what she wanted more: me, or sex. She was twenty—exactly the age I had been when I walked away from her in Charlevoix. Life offered so many possibilities at twenty. Having an adventure seemed like more of a priority, maybe, than finding a lasting relationship.

I shut my eyes. Worrying accomplished nothing. I needed to focus. I would do anything for her, anything so I could keep spending time with her. I might even give her the sex she wanted, if it came to that. But I was also going find a way to make it clear that I wanted a real relationship and trust that she found me adventure enough.


	17. Chapter 17

**It's Monday. Here's a little something to help you get through the day.**

**Shouvley and thir13enth are seriously awesome for helping me think through several very important details.**

* * *

_November 13, Bella's POV_

I woke up early, tired from a restless night. Renée's advice to make Edward see me kept playing in my mind like a catchy tune. So far, two possibilities had occurred to me: ask him out on a real date or fast-track the "mind-blowing evening" part of the program. No matter how much I thought about it, I kept coming back to the second choice. The potential for humiliation seemed much lower.

When I checked my phone, I had a text from Edward suggesting we spend the afternoon at his house. I'd asked him what the plan was for our time together. This was his reply.

**Cullen, Edward: Let's stay in and enjoy each other's company.**

Since then, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about whether he meant us to have more than a conversation. I sort of hoped so, because that would make it easier to implement option two. Maybe it was a sign.

I decided. I was going to make Edward see me, and I was going to do it today before I lost my resolve. I was going to erase from his mind the notion that I was a child. Children did not wear sexy lingerie, but adult women did. I silently thanked Tanya for outfitting me beautifully.

Making the decision did little to calm my nerves. How was I going to do this? How was I going to touch him, kiss him, take my clothes off in front of him? Really, how? I hadn't done it before and didn't know anything about the logistics. The prospect filled me with a deep sense of uneasiness, like driving on an unfamiliar road in a thick fog. It's difficult to feel smooth and in control when you have no idea what's coming.

I headed to the library. Focusing on something else—catching up with all the assignments I'd missed due to my injury—seemed like a good way to avoid making myself ill with anxiety. My hand felt much better, but I'd been instructed to wear the brace as a precaution for another couple of weeks. Things like writing and sketching were difficult. That difficulty was welcome today because it consumed all my attention. Before I knew it, it was time to head over to Edward's.

My nerves surged back to life as soon as I closed the books.

I focused on taking deep breaths and tried to think of things that would help. It was Edward I was doing this with. Edward, whose presence calmed me and made me feel whole. Edward, who always put my comfort first.

"Go!" I said aloud. "Get up out of this chair, and start walking." What were my alternatives, anyway? Pretend to be sick, and then have this whole panic attack again next week? Not appealing. Don't show, don't call, and never see him again? My heart hurt just thinking about it. So I made myself push up from the table and put one foot in front of the other, heading for the library exit. I promised myself a bowl of miso soup to calm my nerves on the way to Edward's.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, fortified with broth and calmer from the walk, I turned onto Edward's block. I was almost to his front gate when a familiar charcoal car pulled up alongside me.

"Need a lift, Miss?" Edward looked up at me through the window.

"No thanks. I don't take rides from strangers."

"Ouch. Is that all I am to you?" He pretended to be hurt. "And here I've been driving around for the last twenty minutes, trying to offer you a ride."

"Oh!" I glanced at my phone. It was dead. "Sorry about that."

He smiled. "It's okay. I'll meet you inside in a second." The Volvo headed up the street toward a parking space.

I turned in at Edward's gate, walked slowly up the front steps of his house, and let myself in. My eyes traced the room, remembering the last time I was here. We were so relaxed. Edward had shown me sides of himself that he probably reserved for people he trusted. So did that mean he trusted me?

I wanted him to trust me.

A troubling thought entered my mind: would I be betraying his trust if I didn't tell him how I felt before we did this?

The problem was that I didn't know his feelings. What if I revealed myself and he called the whole thing off? I didn't think I could stand that.

I heard him come in but couldn't make myself turn to look at him. Then he was standing behind me, so close that I could feel the heat from his body. He rested a hand on my shoulder. Squeezed gently.

"You're tense."

I nodded.

"Why?"

I searched for my voice. "What did you have planned for today?"

"Just…spending the afternoon together. It was nice last time, hanging out here."

"What about…our agreement?"

There was a long pause.

"Are you sure, Isabella. I mean, your hand…"

I was suddenly, intensely, achingly tired—tired of feeling nervous, tired of being the less experienced one, tired of this _thing_ hanging over us. Maybe if we got it out of the way, if I felt _equal_ to Edward, I would be able to figure out what he truly wanted.

"I—" My voice broke. "I'm ready."

"I don't know…" He trailed off.

"I'm ready, Edward." I hated that it sounded like I was pleading. "It's just nerves."

I could hear my heart pounding while I waited for him to say something. And waited. I started unfastening the brace on my hand.

His voice was smooth when he finally spoke. "All right. All you need to do is focus on how you feel and be honest when I ask you about it. I'll take care of the rest."

He led me by the hand toward his kitchen. "Do you want a drink? To…um...relax?"

I nodded. He opened a bottle of wine and poured us each a glass. I could barely taste it as the smooth liquid slid down my throat.

He stood next to me, downing his own glass quickly and rubbing soothing circles on my back. I would have been irritated that he was treating me like a scared child, except I was too busy being…well, a scared child.

"Remember, Isabella, we're taking this slow. We can stop any time. Just tell me."

I glanced sideways at him. Was he trying to put me at ease or talk me out of this? It wasn't clear, but there was no way I would back out now.

He took my now-empty glass from my hand and set it on the counter behind me. Then he swept my hair behind my shoulder and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to my neck.

"Feeling better, Isabella?"

"Yes." Maybe saying it would make it true.

He laced his fingers through mine and led me down a hallway into his bedroom. There was a large, comfortable-looking bed, but he steered me toward an upholstered bench placed between the foot of the bed and the dresser.

"Let's start with a relaxing massage."

_Good idea, ease into things. I knew I could trust him with this._ I sat down on the bench and he stood behind me, hands on my shoulders.

"Take a deep breath in. Now let it out." He pressed down on my shoulders as I exhaled, and started soothing strokes along the base of my neck.

"Mmmm." I closed my eyes. "You're really good at this, Edward."

"I am beyond gratified to hear that. I want you to feel comfortable with me."

His words brought a little warm glow to my chest. That sounded like he maybe wanted me around for a while, even once we had done this. Meanwhile, I _was_ growing more and more relaxed from the warmth and pressure of Edward's hands. I was also feeling more and more ready for whatever was coming next. My body felt like it was humming, waking up.

A moment or two later, I felt Edward's lips by my ear. "Swing your leg over the bench so you're straddling it. Then you can lean forward and lie on your stomach. I'll put a few pillows in front of you for support. And…Isabella?"

"Yes?"

His lips were touching my ear now, caressing it as he whispered. "This might be a good time to remove your shirt."

I felt another warm glow, but this time was lower down and accompanied by a slight ache. Keeping my eyes closed, I followed Edward's instructions, leaving me in only my jeans and my bra from Alice's shop. The bench shifted slightly as he settled in behind me and resumed his firm but gentle strokes.

"So soft," I thought I heard him whisper to himself. Then, more clearly, "This shade of blue—it's beautiful against your skin."

The wine and Edward's touch must have been in full effect, because the next words out of my mouth surprised me in their honesty. "I'm glad you like it. I picked it out for you."

His hands paused for a moment before they resumed moving up and down my back.

"Are there more…where that came from?"

"There are," I assured him.

His hands left my back entirely. Then they returned, gently, making wider circles now, dipping under my waistband and sliding up and down my sides.

"How are you feeling? Relaxed?" His voice was a touch rough.

I swallowed. "I think so."

A pause.

"Good. Sit up slowly. I'll help you." His hands took hold of my shoulders and guided me as I pushed my torso upright. He ran a hand through my hair, moving it aside. "Lean back slightly. That's it. I've got you."

He had removed his own shirt at some point because I could feel the bare skin of his chest against my naked back. I wasn't prepared for the jolt of electricity that ran through me at the sensation, and I gasped softly.

His fingers tightened around my shoulders. I heard him draw a slow breath.

"More?" he asked.

"Yes."

He slid his arms around me, splaying one hand on my stomach and placing his other palm flat against my sternum. And he waited.

I could feel my heart beating against his hand. Its pace was measured, a little fast but not panicked. It was the rhythm of anticipation.

I wanted this. I wanted him. That was how it worked, I realized. I cared about Edward, and during the last month I had grown to feel that I could trust him. Doing this with him felt natural. It felt right.

I placed my hands atop his. "I'm okay, Edward."

We rocked slightly as he took a breath, and then his hands started moving. He caressed, he stroked, he cupped my breast in his hand. It felt so warm. I'd never been touched this way—this gently, this reverently—by anyone, and I marveled at the sensation. I thought I might die from pleasure as he traced the curve underneath and then traveled up to circle my nipple.

"How does that feel, Isabella?" he whispered. His thumb pressed harder. "Some women need a light touch, others prefer firmer pressure. Which do you like?"

I couldn't believe he was talking about this. Did people do that? I didn't know, since this kind of intimacy was a first for me. It seemed to require honesty.

"Lighter," I whispered.

"Mmm." His touch softened, and his thumb slid to my nipple itself. "Then you'll like a light touch here, too." He brushed it with the softest of strokes, but I could still feel it through the thin satin of my bra. My torso arched of its own accord, seeking more of the sensation, and my head fell back to rest on Edward's strong shoulder.

"Open your eyes, Isabella," he murmured.

I did and caught sight of myself in a wall mirror I hadn't noticed earlier.

"Look at how beautiful you are."

Another time I might have been mortified but, at the moment, I was too relaxed and too fascinated by what I saw to look away. My skin was creamy in some spots and flushed in others. My eyes were bright and alive. I looked…sexy.

But what really drew my attention was Edward. I saw his large, smooth hands against my skin, and it set me on fire. I saw his copper-colored hair tangling with my own, and I wanted to run my hands through it. So I did. I watched in the mirror as my left hand came up over my head and reached behind to sink into his soft strands.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the contact and then reopened looking heavy and dark. "I think we need to move," he growled, standing up. Wrapping one arm around my waist and the other underneath my thighs, he lifted me and carried me to the bed.

He set me down and traced the shapes of my shoulder blades, my spine, the dimples in my lower back. Then he settled onto the bed behind me and moved his hands to the clasp of my bra.

"I want—is this okay?

"Yes." I nodded, and turned my head to peer back over my shoulder. His voice had sounded rough and uncertain.

He saw my movement, and his eyes met mine. They wore that look. My look.

He hadn't moved his hands, so I spoke again.

"It's okay Edward. I want you to."

I heard an intake of breath and then felt the gentlest of touches as he unclasped the hooks. He removed the garment from my body slowly and carefully lowered me to the bed, following after like we were connected by an invisible cord.

The absence of material felt strange for a moment, but then I forgot it as Edward placed a kiss on my stomach, just about the waistband of my jeans. It set my skin alight and made my hands want to touch him. All I could reach was his head, so my fingers wove themselves into his silky hair as he laid a trail of warm, gentle kisses. He moved up, up, up until he was at my breast. And then he was everywhere, kissing, tasting, as if he couldn't get enough. I was overwhelmed with the sensations he was creating and the feel of his hair under my fingers and his skin on mine. All I could think was: more. I wanted more of this and more of him.

As if he could read my mind, he moved to reach even more of me, covering my collarbone, my neck, my ears, my jaw, my cheeks, my forehead with the sweetest of kisses. But not my mouth. Not my lips.

He had been holding himself carefully, trying to keep his weight off me probably, but now I craved him. I wanted to be pressed against him. I wanted to feel his legs tangling with mine. So I wound one arm around his neck and the other around his shoulder, and I pulled. He moaned softly as his body sank down onto mine.

I could feel him up and down the entire length of me—his lips on my ear, his heart beating next to my own, our legs interwoven. It felt mind-blowingly good. I couldn't imagine ever leaving this bed, ever being without this man. I hoped Tanya was right. I hoped he was falling for me.

It only lasted a few moments before he shifted his weight rolling us onto our sides. He seemed to be making a concerted effort to slow his breathing and, no longer roaming freely, his fingers restricted themselves to gliding up and down my spine. His other hand went to my hip and slid along my thigh, pulling it up over his but keeping us slightly apart. _Was he stopping? Why?_ The craving I was feeling intensified, which made no sense because he was right there, driving me crazy with pleasure.

I rocked my hips forward to get closer to him, to press my body harder against his. I pushed into his leg, which was tangled between mine. It was the smallest of motions. I still wasn't close enough, so I did it again. An irresistible need was moving me. _Closer_. I pressed forward a third time. He finally matched my movements. And then. The rest of the world fell away as a tsunami of pleasure crashed over me. It was like nothing I'd felt before. Nothing. It consumed every bit of my body and mind. It kept coming and coming, and all I could do was close my eyes and breathe in Edward and feel.

_Was that…? But I still have my jeans on._

At the end, when I started noticing things again, I felt his lips pressed against my ear. I heard him whisper, almost sorrowfully, "Oh, Bella." I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to look at his face and ask him why he was calling me Bella, and why he sounded sad, but a blissful haze settled over me.

As I floated, I felt him tracing the contours of my face with his fingertips. My cheekbones, my brow, the tip of my nose, then my lips. Just as I drifted off, something feather-light brushed against the corner of my mouth.

* * *

Wakefulness came back to me gradually. My body felt wonderful—deeply comfortable, warm, and whole. I reached for Edward, but my hand was caught. I looked down to see a heavy quilt covering me. Edward wasn't in the bed or the room. A little pang in my chest disrupted my glow. Where was he? Why wasn't he here with me?

Footsteps sounded out in the hallway, and Edward appeared with a mug. He met my eyes and smiled.

"Hey there, sleepy."

I could feel my blush as it spread across my cheeks. "Sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize. It's normal to be tired after an...orgasm." The tops of his ears turned pink. Quickly, he held up the mug. "Are you thirsty? I brought you tea."

I hadn't realized I was until he suggested it. I sat up to accept the drink. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful." And then I realized I still wasn't wearing anything on my upper half. "Uh…" I paused, embarrassed.

But he was right there, holding out one of his shirts. "Here."

I was too flustered to meet his eyes, so I just focused on the buttons as my fingers worked to fasten them.

"You don't have to hide from me."

I risked a look into his eyes—his gorgeous, one-of-a-kind eyes—and he looked sincere. It occurred to me I could either let myself get upset and uncomfortable, or I could accept the kindness he was offering. "Thank you, Edward."

He sat down next to me on the bed and placed a soft kiss on my cheekbone. "You are very welcome, beautiful girl."

* * *

**Whew. I need a mug of tea too. What do you think, readers?  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks to Shouvley and Remylebeauishot for the thorough and spot-on Beta work.**

* * *

I was deep in thought as I let myself in to my dorm room, flicked on the light, and took my coat off to hang it on the rack.

"Well, well. Look who's home."

My shoulders jumped hard enough to give me a cramp. "Ahhh!" I whirled around to see my roommate waking up from a nap, stretching her arms over her head. "Angela."

She nodded and yawned, then slid up in bed so that she was propped against the headboard. "Why the surprise?"

"I just didn't notice you. You're quite the stealth sleeper."

"Yeah, I've been lying in wait for hours just so I could startle you." She was quiet for a minute, rubbing her eyes. "Actually, that's not true, but I've just realized this is a wonderful opportunity."

I picked my coat up from where I'd dropped it. "It is?"

She grinned lazily. "I know who you spend Sunday afternoons with. It's time to spill, Swan. Your guy—his name is Edward, right?"

Crap. I wanted to tell her. I needed to talk about this. Could I do it without revealing that "Edward" was Edward Cullen?

She misinterpreted my silence. "Sorry to be all up in your business." I watched as she ran her hands through her hair and gathered it into a ponytail. "You don't have to tell me."

Maybe it didn't matter if she figured out who Edward was. I couldn't see Angela running to the tabloids. I kicked off my shoes, sat down on my bed and pulled the blanket around me.

"No, it's okay. I'll tell you. But you can't repeat a word of this to anyone."

She brightened. "Of course not."

"I mean it. No one."

"Not even Jacob?"

It took me longer than it should have to realize she was kidding.

I shook my head and took a breath. "All right, all right. You have some questions?"

"Is Edward the name of the guy who made the friends-with-benefits offer?" She counted off her questions on the fingers of her hand. "Who is he? Is he a student? And…never mind."

"Never mind what?"

"No, it's none of my business."

"Ang, this is your chance. If you want to know, ask."

"Okay, did you do _it_ yet? You know, hook up."

"With a sprained hand and this ugly brace? Yes, definitely. His kink is medical gear. It was _so_ hot."

"Ha. No, really. Did you?"

I decided to start with the easier questions first. "Uh…okay. Yes, his name is Edward. I already told you that we know each other through our grandmothers. He's not a student anymore. He has his own business. It's a pretty big deal. Mega-big. I think that's why we only hang out on Sundays."

"So he's mega-hot, and now you're telling me he's mega-successful. What else about him is mega? Have you seen his…you know? You still didn't say whether you've done it."

"Not yet," I said, shaking my head. A flush warmed my cheeks.

"It's me, Bella." She held my glance and spoke gently. "You don't have to fib. Just say so if you don't want to discuss it."

"We really didn't. I'm not lying. I just—" A big sigh escaped me. "We did _some_ stuff. And I thought I would feel better, but I don't."

"Maybe he was doing it wrong if you don't feel any better." She waited a beat. "I'm only partway kidding."

I reached over to the light switch and flicked it off, plunging the room into the semi-darkness of a cloudy fall afternoon so I wouldn't have to meet her eyes. "No, he was definitely doing it right. We…made out, I guess…and it was amazing. Really amazing."

"Then what's the problem?"

A fat tear gathered unexpectedly in the corner of my eye. I tried to blink it away. "I thought…maybe things would be clearer after we got the physical stuff worked out."

Angela was silent.

"Now it just seems more complicated."

"What do you mean?" she asked gently.

"I miss him. Even though I just got back, I miss him already." I did my best to speak calmly, but my voice didn't cooperate. My throat was too tight. "He brought me home right after. We didn't hang out and talk like we usually do."

"So…this is more than just hooking up, then? You care about him?"

I nodded into the dark before I remembered she couldn't see me. "Yes. A lot." I sniffed and dabbed my eyes with the comforter. "I thought maybe if I showed him that I'm grown up now, then he might want to date me instead of just hooking up." As soon as I said it, I realized how stupid it sounded.

Her face was somewhere between puzzlement and pity. "What do you mean?"

"He just—ever since—" It had made so much sense to me this morning. I couldn't think of how to explain it now. I stopped and tried to compose myself. "Edward and I—we have some history. Basically, he's always seen me as a kid. When he stayed with my family that summer, I had feelings for him, but he didn't return them. That's why it was so confusing when he insisted on being my hook-up."

"I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure guys don't propose hooking up with just anybody. He wouldn't have offered if he wasn't into you on some level," she said supportively, like the idea offered some hope.

"Maybe," I said, to be nice. "Sometime I feel like he really cares about me, but then other times I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm still fifteen. I wanted him to see that I'm an adult. Sex seemed like an obvious way to go." I covered my face with my hands. "I'm such an idiot! I didn't change anything, except maybe to make it more confusing." My tears escalated, and my nose began to drip.

I thought back to the end of our evening. Edward had been affectionate afterward on Sunday, kissing my cheek, helping me into the car, driving me back to the dorm. He'd stopped me before I got out of the car, touched me gently, graced me with _my look_ again. Then he'd peered at my face like he was searching for something. He didn't say anything, though, except, "See you next Sunday?" like he always did.

_Why hadn't _I _said anything?_ I just sat there, mute, probably looking as freshly ravished as I was. I should have spoken up. It was a perfect moment to tell him how I felt, but I'd missed it.

"I should have told him I have feelings. I missed my chance. And telling him now? There are all sorts of ways it could go wrong. He's going to say it's just because of the experience we shared, or something."

As life-changing as it was to touch him intimately and be touched, to feel his bare skin lying against my own, it wasn't enough all by itself. Something had been missing. Something that I wanted more, it turned out, than his touch. I wanted him to love me.

"It could go right, too, you know? Talking." Angela was quietly encouraging.

I shrugged. "Edward and I don't have a good track record of solving problems by talking through them."

I heard her as she shifted in her bed, lying down on her side to face me. "Bella?" she said thoughtfully. "Have you ever noticed that you expect him to _not_ like you?"

My surprise kept me silent for a moment. "Uh, no. What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're assuming that this won't work out the way you want. You're assuming that it's pointless to even try."

It felt like she had slapped me. Wasn't it pointless? "He doesn't want me," I said firmly. "He made it clear when I first knew him."

Angela's voice rose a little bit, sounding urgent. "That was—what?—four years ago? Since then, he's made it clear he wants you to have sex with him, and it's also pretty clear he doesn't want you to feel used. It's not so crazy to think he'll at least listen if you tell him you want to date."

I rolled my eyes in the dark. "Now you sound like Tanya."

"Who's Tanya?"

"Oh, just some lady I met in the shop where I sell my jewelry."

She looked mystified for a second but then continued speaking in a heartfelt voice. "Look, I can tell you're upset. Nice try with turning the lights off, by the way."

I knew her attempt at teasing me was well-intentioned, but it just made me hurt. I was far beyond being cheered up with a joke. "You know what? I can't talk about this anymore." I stood up abruptly and shrugged on my jacket, slid on my shoes. Another tear rolled down my cheek. Where were my tissues?

She sat up, looking concerned. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. We don't have to talk."

"Thanks," I said, flatly. "I'm going for a walk."

"But it's getting dark." She sounded worried. "Really, we don't have to talk."

"I'll be fine. Maybe stop for coffee. See you later." I was careful to not slam the door behind me.

* * *

I walked for fifteen minutes before I was able to admit to myself that I was pissed at Angela. _She was supposed to be on my side! _It was another fifteen minutes before I'd calmed down enough to think about what she'd said. _As if my behavior was from fear of Edward rejecting me!_ I needed thirty minutes after that to see that she had a point. _Oh._

I decided to bring her a cup of her favorite hot chocolate as an apology. That didn't mean I was ready to talk more about Edward though. I felt like an unappreciative jerk, but I knew Angela meant well. It was just too upsetting. Anyway, I could handle it from here, right?

It was obvious what I needed to do. I had to make it clear to him that, now, this was about more than getting some experience with men. He needed to understand how I felt. I wished again that I'd already spoken my feelings aloud. I wasn't sure he would believe me when I told him. He was so superior sometimes. He would probably say my feelings were from making out.

Still, I had to try. I had come this far, and I didn't want to go back to pretending that hooking up was enough for me. It obviously wasn't. I was going to have to open up to him and start being honest about how I felt, all the time.

I forced myself to take a deep breath. This could be fixed. He had been affectionate, I reminded myself. "See you soon," he'd said. I would have another chance to tell him. But no more of the arrangement. I wanted any touching, any kissing to come from how we felt— not what we had agreed in advance to do. I wouldn't touch him again until he knew how I felt.


	19. Chapter 19

**Shouvley is honest when my writing leaves something to be desired. For that, I love her. Thanks also to AngelaLuvsFanfic for the guidance. Any mistakes are mine. **

* * *

_November 13, Edward's POV_

I let myself into my house and hung the keys up on the hook by the kitchen door. The half-empty bottle of wine stood on the counter. I briefly considered chugging the rest of it, but there wasn't enough to obliterate the frustration coursing through my body.

_What the fuck was wrong with me?_

I grabbed the bottle and pitched it into the sink, hoping it would shatter.

I was supposed to be protecting her. I was trying to get her to fall in love with me. Sex was not on the agenda yet. But the minute she told me she was ready, I was unable to resist her. That's how crazy I was over this girl. She wanted sex, so I gave it to her. Sort of.

It's not that I didn't want to do what we did. Running my hands over her bare skin and seeing her respond to me—tonight I got to do what I've dreamed of for years. I just wanted to be sure it meant something to her, too.

I breathed deeply and looked around. The red wine had splashed everywhere. I snatched a towel from the oven door, pulling it open accidentally. It irritated me beyond all reason, so I kicked it closed. _Bang_.

Then I pulled out my phone and thought about calling Emmett to tell him everything. Maybe he would say, "Hell, yeah! You're finally starting to hit that?" and it would make me feel better. I ran a hand over my face. _Yeah, right. _I threw the phone down on the counter and started wiping up wine instead.

I didn't get why she was pushing so hard for the physical involvement. _But it's not your decision to make._ I'd sworn to myself that I wouldn't take away her choices again. I wouldn't rationalize that she was too young and inexperienced to know what was best. She deserved better than what had happened, though. She deserved to know how I felt.

My problem was that telling her seemed sort of like I would be deciding for her again. "I love you, and I want the sex to mean something." I needed her to fall in love with me on her own. I didn't want to influence. It had to be that way—for my benefit and for hers— if we were going to have any chance at a relationship.

There had to be some middle path. Maybe I could show her how I felt. I could start acting like we were full-on dating. Would that count as undue influence? Fuck, I hoped not, because I was about to explode. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that our relationship was just a casual thing. I looked down and noticed I had twisted the wine-soaked towel into a knot.

The workshop—I needed to head out there and do something with my hands to calm down. I tried to think of a project that I could work on, but nothing came to mind. Instead, I started wondering when I'd be able to bring Bella out there with me again. A big sigh escaped me as I opened the back door and headed through the yard.

* * *

_November 20 from Bella's POV_

I was hard at work on a piece of jewelry when the phone rang. My creative block had finally broken once I'd admitted to myself how much of my inspiration was coming from Edward, and how important he was becoming to me. Working gave me something to focus on instead of worrying, and I'd been more productive this last week than any other time since I'd arrived at school.

At the moment, I was caught up in getting the placement of a fabric scrap just right, shaping the dome of clear resin exactly to my liking, wrapping the wire around the dome to look…loving, rather than binding. I was in that state of flow where you don't notice the passing of time.

The chiming of my phone intruded again. I'd already ignored it twice, focused on my work. Finally, exasperated, I picked it up.

"What is it?" I said absently, not bothering to check the Caller ID.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Edward, hi!" The smile on my face lit up my voice as well. I suddenly felt lighter than I had all week.

"Hello." His voice sounded warm. "Having a good day?"

"Now I am."

"Well, then I'm sorry to ruin things with my bad news. I need to work today. There was a problem with a code upgrade during the week, and the fix isn't going well. Thanksgiving is our highest-traffic weekend, so I've got to take care of this."

"Oh." My heart sank. This time, it was disappointment I couldn't keep out of my voice. "That's okay, Edward. I understand." I told myself that was a perfectly reasonable excuse. There was no reason not to believe him.

"It's not _okay_," he said. "I want to see you. Would you be willing to come by my office? I'll take a break and show you around a little bit."

"Really? Are you sure?"

There was a brief pause. "Yeah. I'd like you to see where I work."

"What if someone sees us together, though?"

"What if they do? Our relationship is no one else's business."

Our relationship. I thrilled to the words.

"How do I get there?"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Edward was greeting me at the door of his office building. And by "his," I mean literally his. I'd just read an article in a local art magazine about the restoration of the old Whitmeyer Building to serve as the headquarters for Oodles.

"It's beautiful in here, Edward. Very period-accurate. I especially love the mail tube." I gestured to the old-fashioned rectangular glass tube that emerged from the ceiling and ended in a locked brass receptacle, just as a letter came sliding down from an upper floor.

"You read that article, huh? Thanks. Restoring it took some extra effort, but the building turned out great." He raised his hand in greeting to the security guard stationed at a podium near the elevators. "Hey, Marcus."

Marcus gave a relaxed salute. His expression didn't change. He barely moved his head. I suppressed a grin until we were safely inside the elevator.

"Wow. That guy makes plants seem alert."

Edward grinned back. "Yeah, he's pretty chill. But I once saw him take down a guy who tried to walk out of here with a bunch of server hardware. The slow-and-sleepy thing is just a façade to fool the criminal element. Marcus sees everything." He used his fingers to point at his eyes and turned his hand to point at me in the sign for "watching you." I giggled and then glanced around self-consciously for security cameras. Edward looked at me, mystified.

"What are you doing?"

"Just wondering—are we being watched right now?"

One side of his mouth pulled up into a smile. "Don't worry about it. I know the boss."

The elevator slid open. He gestured for me to go ahead and then fell in step next to me as I started down the only hall.

"It's pretty quiet on this floor. Most of the activity is downstairs today."

We walked past a little kitchen. "Tea? Soda?"

My stomach rumbled. "I'd love a hot drink, thanks. I was so caught up in work this morning, I didn't really take time to eat."

He looked at me. "It's two o'clock. You must be starving."

I shrugged.

"Let me see what kind of a snack I can put together." He nodded toward an open door. "Have a seat in my office, and I'll be right in."

I stepped through the door Edward indicated and stopped. It was a very large space. A simple, huge desk with three computer monitors stood at the end of the room. A couch provided a comfortable place to view the giant digital computer screen placed on the opposite wall. The last wall consisted entirely of windows, floor to ceiling, that looked west over the urban roof decks of downtown and beyond to the Old West Side neighborhood, dense with trees losing the last of their colorful fall leaves. I stood there, enjoying the sunshine as it warmed me.

Footsteps announced Edward's entrance. He cleared his throat, so I turned to look at him.

"The best I could do was cheese and crackers and an apple somebody left in the refrigerator."

I walked over to where he stood and took the plate he held out. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful."

He shrugged, a lopsided grip on his face. "I wouldn't want you to starve. Sundays would become very lonely."

A goofy grin started to take over my face as his words registered. That sounded an awful lot like he enjoyed spending time with me. I looked down, suddenly shy for some reason.

When I saw the food, I felt famished and couldn't think about anything else. I sat down on the sofa and started eating, trying my best to not wolf it down. Edward sat down next to me, elbows on his knees and hands rubbing together absently like he was thinking about something.

"Isabella?"

I looked up, mouth full of food.

"Are you traveling for Thanksgiving?"

I shook my head. I hadn't been able to catch a ride with anyone I knew and it had seemed too expensive to fly home now, when I'd be going again next month at semester's end.

Edward sat up straighter and angled his body toward mine. "If you don't have any plans, maybe you'd like to spend the holiday with me? I'm having a small gathering. Just Emmett and Rosalie are coming, and my cousin and her husband." His head was tilted down, and he looked up at me uncertainly.

I swallowed. "Are—are you sure?" _Please be sure_.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

I took a deep breath and answered him honestly. "It's an occasion to spend with friends and family…and, you know, I'm not sure where I fit into that scheme."

He looked regretful. Sad, almost. "You don't think you fit in to a group of my friends and family?"

Embarrassment flooded my face. I shrugged. Was that so stupid? We had our arrangement and had never talked about anything different. I hoped—oh, how I hoped—but I couldn't let myself assume he felt more.

He raised a hand and cupped my cheek, running a thumb along my skin. "You do, Isabella. You definitely fit."

A small grin bloomed on my lips. "I do?" That was another good sign. Very, very good.

A smile spread across Edward's face like a mirror of my own. "Yes. Please come."

I was giddy. "Well, since I fit and everything, I'd love to. Can I bring anything?"

"No, not a thing. Just yourself and your appetite."

A warm glow suffused my whole body, from Edward's admission and also his gentle touch, electric as ever. It must have been what turned my filter off, because then I said, "I'm not sure how I'll last until Thursday."

I heard him take a deep breath and looked up directly into his eyes. They were dark and seemed to be searching mine. He looked down at my lips, then back up.

"Don't move."

He stood up and was at the door in three strides. Closed it. Locked it. Then he was back, pulling me up and grasping my hand in his as he towed me toward the windows. He peered intently through glass for a long moment, not saying anything.

Apparently I would have to be the one to break the silence. "This is an amazing view, Edward. The city looks so different from up here.

"I agree." He released my hand and stood close behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other brushing my opposite arm as he raised it to sketch out directions for me. "If you follow the line of the road right there and then look to the right of that steeple, you can just make out my house."

I peered carefully in the direction he'd indicated. "I think…is that it? Right there by the dark building? Oh! That's your workshop, right?"

"Right." He ran his hands up and down my arms while he spoke. "When we finally moved into this building, I chose the office for exactly that view. I wanted to be reminded every day that there's more to me than this office, more than this company. It's just something I do, not who I am."

"That's really…humble, Edward. And wise."

"Yeah, well. Unfortunately, I had to learn it the hard way."

I could sense a darkness behind his words. I turned to look up at him, wanting to reassure. "But you _did_ learn. That's what matters."

His eyes held mine, and for a long minute he didn't move. Then his hand came up to trace my cheekbone again. I closed my eyes to shut out any sensation that would interfere with feeling his touch. Unable to help it, I may also have leaned into his warm, gentle caress. And sighed.

Somewhere in the back of my consciousness, an alarm was sounding. I still hadn't told him how I felt, and we were on the verge of making out again. _Say something_, the voice intoned. _Don't make the same mistake twice._

He was closer now, I could tell. I had a thought about energy fields and wondered if I could sense it when he entered mine. And then it didn't matter anymore because he was placing a soft kiss on one cheekbone, then the other. He inhaled deeply, slowly.

"Are you wearing perfume? You smell so…" He trailed off as he kissed me again, just under my ear this time.

_Tell him how you feel,_ came the voice, interrupting my bliss. But I didn't tell him. _He must know_, I reasoned. Things were progressing. He'd just told me he counted me among his family and friends and invited me into his life. I could feel my lips bending into a smile again at the thought.

His hands gripped my waist and I felt myself pressed softly into the warm glass at my back. It was so bright, I could see the sunshine through my closed eyes. His nose skated along my own as he pressed a kiss on the corner of my mouth.

I tried to remember why I was supposed to be putting the brakes on, but I couldn't. I was awash in sensation and emotion and couldn't focus on anything but this swept-away feeling. I didn't want it to end. I wanted him to kiss me for real.

That's when his phone started to ring.

He stopped. He took a breath and a half-step back. He carefully ran his fingers through my hair and smoothed a piece behind my ear. Then he placed a hand on either side of my face and rested his lips on my forehead.

Craving the contact I was about to lose, I wound one of my arms more tightly around his waist. My other hand I used to hang on to his wrist, and I loved the feel of him, large and strong.

We stayed that way, neither one of us moving, neither one of us letting go, until his phone started ringing again. With a deep sigh, he loosened his grip.

"Do you need to get that?"

"No."

He gently tugged my shirt back into place from where it had ridden up. Then he stood back and gave me a once-over.

"Well, you don't look too ravished. Maybe a little pink in the cheeks. Definitely presentable for Marcus," he smiled softly.

"Thanks."

"It's the least I can do. And thank you. For coming to visit me today, Bella."

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to see you."

His smile was brilliant. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." My grin matched his.

"Good. That's good."

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. He looked the way I always remembered him from before. From that summer.

"I hate to say it, but if I'm going to be free for Thanksgiving, I need to get back to work. Let me walk you out?"

I took one last look at the view out the window toward his house and nodded.

He took my hand and led me back to the elevator. The door slid open and there stood a huge, muscular man. "Hey, I was just coming to get you—" He broke off as he noticed me and then zeroed in on our clasped hands.

"Emmett, this is Isabella," Edward said, dropping my hand and placing his palm on my shoulder, "an old family friend. She moved to town in September, and we've been catching up a bit."

"Just Bella," I said, smiling and holding out my hand. "Edward's mentioned you a few times. It's nice to finally meet."

He gave me a mysterious smile. "Bella, nice to make your acquaintance. September, huh?" He shifted his glance to Edward. "Seems like ol' Edward here would have mentioned something about you in three months, but I guess he's been too busy."

"Isabella will be joining us Thursday, Emmett, so you can visit all you want then. Let me walk her out, and then I'll be ready to get back to work."

"All right, man. Bella, it was very nice to meet you. See you Thursday. Oh, and be sure to study up for the game," he said, tapping his temple.

"The game?"

"Didn't he tell you? We always play Scrabble on Thanksgiving. Loser cleans the kitchen. Edward is not the world's neatest chef. Enough said."

I couldn't help giggling. I liked Emmett already. "Thanks for the warning. Let's hope I can find a good study guide somewhere."

He gave me a deadpan look. "Have you ever heard of ? It's a nifty search engine we like to use around here. Just go there and type 'Scrabble study guide' into the search box. I'm sure you'll find something." He held up a hand to the side of his face and said, in a stage whisper, "Let me know when you've spilled the beans about our little endeavor here, Ed."

Edward rolled his eyes. "See you in a few, Em." He steered me into the elevator, pressed the down button, and gently took my hand again.

In a few moments, the elevator doors opened with a ding, and we stepped out. Edward held his hand over the door frame to keep the car waiting.

"See you Thursday, Isabella." He smoothed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm looking forward to it."

I wanted to kiss him. I really, really wanted to. But I didn't feel confident enough to do it. Instead, I touched his hand.

"Me too, Edward."

* * *

Later that night, I fired up my laptop to check email and remembered Emmett's advice about the upcoming Scrabble game. I typed "Scrabble study guide" into the "oodles of answers" search bar on my browser. The number one search result was titled "Scrabble Study Guide for Beautiful Girl." No "s." Girl, singular. I looked to the right of the screen. It was a sponsored result, guaranteed to top the list. The sponsor listed was "Friend of the Puzzlemaster."


End file.
